Storied Grace

Wonderbread, Franzia Wine, and Me

A sermon for the Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 15
August 18, 2024, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs

Readings: John 6:51-58

I once heard a story about preaching on today’s gospel text. A priest used today’s gospel to preach on Eucharistic theology—on what we believe happens at the Eucharist. We believe that Christ is truly present in the bread and wine on the altar. They are still bread and wine, but they are also the Body and Blood of Christ. We are fed physically and spiritually with this sacrament, this pledge of God’s favor and love given in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ. The priest preached that message. There was a little girl in the congregation. She came up to the altar rail with her mother. “The Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven.” She took the bread. “The Blood of Christ, the cup of salvation.” The little girl stared into the chalice and let out a scream. She ran down the center aisle of the church yelling, “There’s really blood in there!” The next week, the church used white wine.

You’re Not You When You’re Hungry

A sermon for the Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 14
August 11, 2024, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs

Readings: I Kings 19:4-8; John 6:35, 41-51

“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” Do you remember those Snickers commercials from a few years ago? There is a deep truth there, one that we have seen in ourselves, in our families, among our friends. Hunger, even meager hunger, makes us different, prone to anger and despair, more impulsive, perhaps. True, famine hunger drives people to desperation and impossible choices. Hunger does that to us, and it did that to the prophet Elijah, too.

In Memoriam: Linda McIntyre

A sermon for the funeral of Linda A. McIntyre (1959-2024)
August 3, 2024, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs

Readings: Romans 1:8-17

One thing have I asked of the LORD; one thing I seek; that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life; to behold the fair beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple. (Psalm 27:5-6)

Today we gather to remember Linda, someone who had seen the fair beauty of the LORD. We gather to give thanks for her life. We gather to support her family. And above all, we gather because we have a hope that because Linda was baptized into the life and death of Jesus Christ her Lord, she is claimed by God forever. She is, even now, in the greater presence of that fair beauty, and we will see her again when we are taken into that beauty ourselves.

The Secret to Bread

A sermon for the Tenth Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 12
July 28, 2024, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs

Readings: John 6:1-21

“The secret is in the hands.” A French baker told me that once, holding up his hands while he said it. I would go to the farmer’s market every weekend to get food when I was a student in France. I bought my bread from the same guy every week. I asked him what made his bread so good, thinking he must have some secret ingredient in his recipe. He said, “The secret is in the hands.” He went on to explain that his bread was simple: flour, water, salt, yeast–just like any bread. But he claimed to have some special method of kneading the dough by hand to perfection. That alone, he claimed, set his bread apart.

Shepherding Us Home

A sermon for the Ninth Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 11
July 21, 2024, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs

Readings: Mark 6:30-34, 53-56; Psalm 23

In today’s reading from Mark, Jesus and his disciples are trying to get away. Since the beginning of Mark, Jesus has been going at a breakneck speed. He’s baptized by John, sent off to the wilderness, calls his disciples, heals and teaches and debates with religious authorities, stills a storm. In this chapter alone he has gone to his hometown to preach, been rejected, and commissioned his disciples to go out to preach ahead of him, fed the 5,000 and walked on the water. Jesus has been busy and he needs a break. But try as he might, he can’t get away, not quite yet. He’s met by crowds of people on the shore seeking him out. And when he sees them, he cannot help but have compassion. The crowds need Jesus, and he’s there. He shows up.

A Response to Political Violence

A sermon for the Eighth Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 10
July 14, 2024, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs

Readings: Mark 6:14-29

We come today with two texts of political violence. The first is our gospel reading. Herod executes John the Baptist at the behest of his daughter. Mark wants to hedge a little bit; Herod comes off as a reluctant executioner. But we should be suspicious of that. Everything we know about the Herods paints them as a family of cruel and exacting tyrants. Herod executes John to send a message–don’t cross me, he says. And if a head on a silver platter will entertain his guests, Herod won’t hesitate.

God’s Not Done Yet

A sermon for the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 9
July 7, 2024 at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs

Readings: Ezekiel 2:1-5; II Corinthians 12:2-10; Mark 6:1-3

We began today with a passage from Ezekiel. The prophet is speaking in a time of exile, as he and his people are far from their homeland. They’ve been gone awhile, and they wonder if that will ever change. And here we have this startup prophet who has been given a word of hope. It’s a difficult word with mysterious visions; it’s a word about how God is restoring the nation, bringing them home. It’s a word that seems so out of realm of the possible that God warns Ezekiel that the people won’t listen.

Confession’s Response

A sermon for the Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 16
Education Sunday
August 27, 2023

Every Wednesday, one of my duties is to send a sermon title to Sallie Culbreth. If you don’t know Sallie, you should. She’s an angel among us. I send her my sermon title, and she sends it on to the Sentinel Record. She often even makes graphics advertising what to expect, like this week. Well, today I’m going rogue. If you came expecting me to preach on “Presenting our Sacrifice,” I am sorry to disappoint.

Just Who Do You Think You Are?

A sermon for the Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 15
August 20, 2023

Just who do you think you are? Has anyone ever asked you that, perhaps with a tone revealing that they certainly don’t think of you in the same way?

The question is central in today’s gospel–who do you think you are? I’ll be honest: this passage has always been a challenge for me. Maybe it has for you, too. Let’s dive in and take a close look.

I Dare Ya

A sermon for the Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 14
August 13, 2023
First Sunday at St. Luke’s

Do you remember learning to swim? I learned at a summer daycare program. The day I learned, I went up to the edge of the pool. Johnny, the swim teacher, was in the water waiting for me to jump in. “Hey, Mr. Johnny! Should I jump in?” “I dare ya!” Johnny replied. Even as a child, I had my pride. I couldn’t turn down a dare. So without any other options, in I went. Splash–right into the arms of Johnny.