jesus – Page 7 – Storied Grace

Jesus Loves You

A sermon for the 20th Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 22
October 6, 2024, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: Mark 10:2-16

I remember the house. I remember it as blue with woods behind it where my first dog Snoopy ran away. Who knows if that’s true. The TV would play Barney or my favorite show, Lamb Chop. My parents enjoyed watching Cops. I memorized the theme song early on. My room had a small strip of dinosaur wallpaper around the top. And I remember the trailer, where Mom, my brother, and I moved out to. It was near a farm, and there was a pig. I threw a rock at a wasp nest and got stung several times. Maybe I was three or four. I remember the women’s shelter, the tree lined drive to a protected house, the small bedroom for my mother, brother, and me. There was a playground. That was where we moved next. I didn’t know why we moved there. I learned much later that my biological father, whose long pattern of abuse had finally driven my mother to that trailer–I learned he had been calling the trailer, recounting with menacing detail where we had been that day, threatening to kidnap my brother and me. That’s why we moved to the shelter. That’s why we moved from South Carolina to Missouri, where no one would find us.

In Memoriam: Gary Wayne Murphy

A sermon for the funeral of Gary Murphy
October 5, 2024, at St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Stuttgart, AR

Readings: Joshua 1:5-9; Revelation 21:2-7; John 6:37-40

What I remember about the first time I met Gary is his smile. His smile captured his kindness, his generosity, his happiness. He served for a time on the vestry here right after I arrived, but before he and Elaine moved to be closer to Lee. He smiled, and he was welcoming, and he had a little bit of a crush on Molly.

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.