forgiveness – Storied Grace

Two Anniversaries

A sermon for the Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 19
Foundation Day
September 13, 2026, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: Genesis 50:15-21 ; Psalm 103:(1-7), 8-13 ; Romans 14:1-12 ; Matthew 18:21-35

Today we commemorate two anniversaries. The first is the 100th birthday of our current building. St. Luke’s parish has been present in this community for 160 years, and for the last 100, generations of the faithful have prayed here. We have worshiped our Lord; we have heard the Word and received the Sacraments; we have celebrated the triumphs of life; we have sealed our vows; we have observed our grief and buried our beloved dead. As the choir’s communion anthem will say today, “Hallowed this dwelling where the Lord abideth, this is none other than the gate of heaven; strangers and pilgrims, seeking homes eternal, pass through its portals.” But if I’m honest today, another anniversary this weekend presses on my mind: the 25th anniversary of the 9/11 terror attacks. I was in fifth grade in Mrs. Boggs’s classroom and I was terrified. My friend and mentor the Rev. Stuart Hoke was a priest at Trinity Church, New York City, at the time. He ran down the street carrying two infants from their day care program in his arms as the towers fell, and as he ran, he prayed. He was terrified, too.

Sorry Not Sorry

A sermon for the Fourth Sunday in Lent
March 30, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: II Corinthians 5:16-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

“But he’s not sorry!” I was a counselor at Choir Camp, and I was in charge of the boys in 2nd-4th grade. Sometimes they fight. (Before I forget: Send your kids and grandkids to choir camp this summer. It’s a ministry sponsored by St. Luke’s and led by our own organist Charlie Rigsby.) Anyway, sometimes the boys fight, and I told the offending boy to apologize or he couldn’t go to the pool. I don’t remember any details. But I remember the other boys in the group spoke up. They weren’t involved in the dispute at all, but they spoke up to make sure I knew that the offender wasn’t actually sorry. He had even said it under his breath, they said. After the offender had apologized on command, under his breath, he had said, “sorry, not sorry.” So the other boys, indignant, offended at the injustice, had spoken up: “But he’s not sorry!” they had said. “He’s not sorry, so he shouldn’t get to go to the pool! It’s not right!” If you’ve worked with children, you’ve encountered this exact situation. If you work with adults, you have encountered it there, too. The offending boy had said, “sorry, not sorry,” and now Counselor Mark had to figure out what to do because the boys had all agreed, in council no less, that the apology did not count unless the offender meant what he said, and he shouldn’t get to go to the pool.

Breaking through Denial

A sermon for Ash Wednesday
March 5, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, Arkansas

Readings: 2 Corinthians 5:20-6:10

In parish halls and church basements, in classrooms and parlors across the country, week after week after week, something amazing happens. A group of people gathers to confess shortcomings and failures; they ask for support from one another; they love each other through their triumphs and their slip-ups; they recommit themselves to following a new way of life. I wish I could say this happened in the Sunday liturgy. Sometimes it does. I think it happens often on a Sunday here. But far too often we are too proud, too self-obsessed, or maybe too fearful to admit just what we are. We are too often more concerned with convincing others (and ourselves) that we have it all together instead of confessing that we’re sinners. No, I’m talking about groups like Alcoholics Anonymous, Narcotics Anonymous, Food Addicts Anonymous, Gamblers Anonymous, Sex Addicts Anonymous, Pills Anonymous. Folks come to these groups because they are ready for a change and they need help. They come to confess their sins. They come, not because they have everything figured out, but precisely because they don’t.