christianity – Page 2 – Storied Grace

A New Way

A sermon for the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 12
July 27, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: Colossians 2:6-15, (16-19)

How many baptisms have you seen happen in this room, right back there at that font? If you think about it, I bet you can see the whole thing in your head. The candidate comes forward; if they are a child, they are accompanied by parents and Godparents. They renounce evil and promise to follow Christ ahead of anything else in this world. They make vows. Water is poured. Prayers are said. Three handfuls of water in the Name of the Trinity. Oil blessed by the bishop. A candle representing the light of Christ shining brightly within us.

The Better Part

A sermon for the 6th Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 11
July 20, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: Genesis 18:1-10a ; Luke 10:38-42

Do you ever get bothered by a passage of Scripture? Today we have one that makes plenty of us uncomfortable. We read that Martha, who has a sister named Mary, welcomes Jesus into her home. That is to say, Martha is in charge. We know from the gospel of John that these are the sisters of Lazarus, whom Jesus raises from the dead. They are Jesus’s good friends, and they give this rabbi who normally does not have a place to lay his head, a bed for the night. They welcome him, and with him his company of disciples. But these two sisters take very different approaches to Jesus’s visit. Mary, we read, sits and listens at Jesus’s feet. She takes the position of a disciple, learning from the master. Martha, on the other hand, gets to work getting things ready. Cooking. Setting the table. Getting the wine. All of the things that go into making a visit like this one a success. More than that, these things were demanded by society. In Jesus’s time, hospitality, welcoming others into your home, was not just a matter of being polite. It was a religious obligation. Martha is trying to fulfill what God expects. It is not an accident that in Greek, the words for “many tasks” are polle diakonia. Diakonia–we get deacon from that word. Service is an important, even religious, matter.

The Innkeepers

A sermon for the 5th Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 10
July 13, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: Luke 10:25-37

Cindy and Charlie were innkeepers. They didn’t know it, but they were. Friends from church, they were in my life as a child, from around age 7 when my single mother started going back to school until around age 12 when they moved to Oklahoma. But for those years they were innkeepers to my brother and me. We spent as much time with them–maybe more time–than we did at our own home while mom was in nursing school. When mom couldn’t be there, Cindy stepped in. She picked us up from school, made us breakfast burritos and dinners galore, let us help make banana pudding. She was the one who told me it was high time to start wearing deodorant. And because mom hadn’t met the man I call my dad yet, Charlie stepped in more than once, helping me make my pinewood derby car for Cub Scouts, or going to the dad-and-son events at school. He taught me how to operate a lawn mower, and how to rake leaves. That’s what the innkeepers do–they step into lives for a time. They bring their ministries of healing to the wounded, providing love and support. They may not know it, but they do the work of Jesus. That was Cindy and Charlie.

Freed for Freedom

A sermon for the Third Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 8
June 29, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, Arkansas

Readings: Galatians 5:1,13-25 ; Luke 9:51-62

Free is not your right to choose
It’s answering what’s asked of you
To give the love you find until it’s gone

I don’t listen to secular music much. I am a church nerd through and through. My Spotify playlists are populated with the hymns of the Church, at least generally. The lines of the old hymns make me catch my breath, as the beauty and greatness of God are captured, or at least glimpsed, in a few words. But there are exceptions. There are a few non-hymns on my playlists with lines that make me breathless. Many of them come from the band the Avett Brothers, an American folk rock group. I quoted a few of those lines a moment ago, lines about freedom from their song “Ill with Want.” It’s a song about how greed consumes and leaves us sick and empty-handed. The only remedy, they sing, is the freedom found in giving love away, and ultimately giving ourselves away. For in the end that is what is asked of us by Jesus himself: “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” Or, from today’s gospel: “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

Free is not your right to choose
It’s answering what’s asked of you
To give the love you find until it’s gone

Church Meetings

A sermon for the Fifth Sunday of Easter
May 18, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: Acts 11:1-18, John 13:31-35

There is perhaps nothing so dangerous as a church meeting called in haste. Our reading from Acts takes us to one. Peter has been called up to Jerusalem. All the big names are there. The senior warden is at the head of the table at the front of the room. The junior warden is there, too, with the rest of the vestry, all seated on the same side like Da Vinci’s “The Last Supper.” In front of them a podium, the hot seat. The room is full. Each table has a different group. Sometimes these groups disagree. Sometimes they fight among themselves. But today, they all seem to be on the same page. Peter is in trouble, and it’s time to hear from him directly. We’ve heard concerning rumors. Let’s sort it all out. Can you see the scene? Today’s is from the year 38 AD or so in Jerusalem, but the scene has been repeated time and time and time again in nearly every place. Yes, there’s nothing so dangerous as a church meeting called in haste.

The Resurrection of the Body

A sermon for Easter Sunday
April 20, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: 1 Corinthians 15:19-26, John 20:1-18

“We believe in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.” Like centuries of Christians before us, we confess those words week after week. We will say them in just a moment. We will say that we believe in resurrection–a physical and bodily resurrection. We don’t just believe in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. We believe that we will be physically resurrected on the Last Day, too. That’s what we confess week after week.

The Cross in a Dark Room

A sermon for Good Friday
April 18, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: Isaiah 52:13-53:12, Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9, John 18:1-19:42

Mary’s room was dark, like a tomb, there at the end of the nursing home hallway. At 97, it had been her home for 20 years. She had called for Communion and a pastoral visit because she was Episcopalian when she was a child and she always liked Episcopal priests. Mary’s room wasn’t only dark because she kept the lights off and curtains drawn, closed off to the world. It was also dark because she was lonely, desperately lonely; she was depressed, terribly depressed. At the end of her life, she was looking back and didn’t know what it was for. She carried regret. She carried hatred and anger. She carried shame.

He Remembers Us

A sermon for Maundy Thursday
April 17, 2025 at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; John 13:1-17, 31b-35

I visited Mary in her home. It was a room in a nursing care facility; far from the best one in town. Just a single room. She kept the place dark. It was like going into a tomb. Mary was 97 years old and had lived in that dark room for going on 20 years. She had no family, no friends, she said. She had called because she was Episcopalian once, when she was a child. She had been baptized in an Episcopal church, and her aunt took her to Sunday school sometimes. Not often, it didn’t sound like. She didn’t like the nursing home chaplain who had come by, so she called me. She called and asked me to step into her darkness, into this living tomb at the end of the hall. I stayed for an hour or so, and she told me her story. I will share her story with you over the next three days.

I Am the Bread of Life

A sermon for the Hot Springs Lent Lunch Series
March 17, 2025, at First United Methodist Church, Hot Springs, AR

Reading: John 6:22-35

“Can I get some bread over here?!” The little boy was with his mother at Olive Garden. “Can I get some bread?” The boy could not have been older than 7 or 8–old enough to know better, if you had asked me. He had already eaten, and his mother was waiting for the check. She kept telling him to be quiet because he had already eaten; he kept on. “Can I get some bread?” What came next really put me over; he started asking other customers if he could have a piece of their bread. “Can I have a piece of your bread?” The boy finally asked me. I was sitting there with a priest friend. We were enjoying our bread and had every intention of eating every bit of it ourselves. But we were in our priest collars, and it was Lent, and other people were looking, and wasn’t it the right thing to be charitable? My friend divided his breadstick in half and gave it to the boy. “Here, kid,” he said. “Now go sit down and give your mother a break.”

Called into the Wilderness

A sermon for the First Sunday in Lent
March 9, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: Deuteronomy 26:1-11; Romans 10:8b-13; Luke 4:1-13

Why would you want to go into the wilderness, into the desert? Before I went to seminary, I was the children and youth minister at St. Thomas’ in Springdale. Part of my job was to teach Sunday school. Whenever I taught a Bible story that took place in the desert, like our gospel today, I would get a sandbox, about 2 foot by 4 foot. The curriculum we used would give me a sort of script. It would sound something like this: “The desert is a big place, and we have a small piece of it here today. The desert is a strange and wild place. At night it gets very cold. During the day it gets very hot. There are wild animals, and not very much food or water. The desert is not a place you want to go to alone.”