July 26, 2020 - The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

Lectionary Readings

O God, grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change; the courage to change the things that we can; and the wisdom to know the difference ☩ in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

            At the beginning of Matthew, we hear the proclamation: “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven has come near.” The life, Death, Resurrection, and Ascension of Jesus is the drama by which this Kingdom is planted on earth as it is in heaven. “And just what is the Kingdom?,” we ask. While we could try to define it by saying something like “The Kingdom is the reality in which God’s people are gathered in peace under his sovereign rule,” we’d still want to know, “But, yeah, what is the Kingdom like?”

July 12, 2020 - The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost

Lectionary Readings

O Lord, forgive the sins of the preacher, that only your Word may be preached and only your Word be heard ☩ in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

            You’ve heard the phrase “Good things come in small packages.” Well, the same might be said for wisdom – that it often comes in small packages. Most wisdom sayings are pithy statements that are chock full of meaning: “the early bird catches the worm,” for example. That simple phrase conveys so much meaning and actually makes the point better than if we tried to explain it by saying “Sometimes in life, there are opportunities that are only available if you are early and follow the natural order of things.” That’s clunky and not at all memorable. But, “the early bird catches the worm”? As they say, that’ll preach.

June 14, 2020 - Proper 6A

Lectionary Readings

O Lord, forgive the sins of the preacher, for they are many, that only your Word may be preached and only your Truth be heard. Amen.

            The Bible is full of verses that are absolutely foundational to our understanding of the faith, and as such, these verses can function as a summary statement of faith. We heard one of these verses in today’s Epistle reading – Romans 5:8 states, “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” That verse is a clear and consicse description of Christianity, and so I wanted to be sure to lift up that verse in this sermon. Romans isn’t my focus today, but that verse is one worth knowing. And, in a sense, every sermon points to the Good News that is contained in that verse, so there will be connections to the grace of God that Paul writes about in Romans with the grace of God we see in the story from Genesis about the how Sarah became a mother to Isaac.

May 24, 2020 - Easter 7A

Lectionary Readings

In the name of the Risen Lord. Amen.

            Have you ever received something and didn’t realize the treasure that it was? Maybe it was some sort of odd tool that you never thought you’d use, but it’s become your go-to. Perhaps there is someone you thought was only an acquaintance, but in a moment of great need, they became your hero. For me, it was a piece of advice. Many years ago, as I was hoping that a particular job search would open, a good friend said, “Robert, if you want something, ask for it.” At the time, it was simple advice, but, for me, it’s been an invaluable piece of wisdom. Sometimes we receive things and we just don’t understand how life-giving and important they are.

May 17, 2020 - Easter 6A

Lectionary Readings

In the name of God, in whose love we live, and move, and exist. Amen.

            What is the story that you live your life by? You know, what’s the story that you tell yourself to get through the daily grind, to make yourself get out of bed in the morning, to motivate yourself to do things that you don’t really want to do, to find hope in this pandemic? In a great book called Seculosity that I’ve mentioned before, the author says that religion is shorthand for whatever that story is. Religion is the thing that focuses our desires, ranks our priorities, and determines what we say “yes” and “no” to. And any story that you live by is a religion in this sense. So it’s not a question of which box do you check off for “religious affiliation,” it’s a question of your guiding principles and which gods you worship.

May 3, 2020 - Easter 4A

Lectionary Readings

Risen Christ, faithful shepherd of your Father’s sheep: teach us to hear your voice and to follow your command, that all people may be gathered into one flock, this we pray by the power of your Spirit. Amen.

            Some of you know the story of why I’m a priest. When I was a boy growing up at St. Joseph’s Episcopal Church in Boynton Beach, Florida, I starting serving as an acolyte when I was maybe 8 or 9 years old. And I loved it. I loved being close to the altar and I loved having this way to serve God and that’s where my call to the priesthood began. In that parish, there were different classes of acolytes, depending on one’s experience and reliability. The top one was called the Level 4 acolyte, and no one had achieved that level since this program was instituted. Well, I’m competitive enough and enough of a perfectionist that I probably don’t need to tell you who the first was. As a small aside, all of the acolytes wore wooden crosses around their necks when serving, but the Level 4 acolyte got a silver cross – and it’s still the one I wear to do this day when I get vested for worship.

April 19, 2020 - Easter 2A

Lectionary Readings

In the name of the Risen Lord. Amen.

            Eastertide greetings to you all. I pray that you all are continuing to be safe and sane during this difficult time. And while we can’t physically gather with one another, I am so incredibly thankful that, through our prayers and with the aid of technology, we can still gather as the faithful people of God and be connected in this way. This morning, instead of primarily focusing on one of the Scriptural texts that were read, I want to focus on a liturgical text – the Pascha nostrum, which is the Latin title for “Christ our Passover.”

April 12, 2020 - Easter Sunday

Lectionary Readings

In the name of the Risen Lord. Amen.

            Alleluia, Christ is risen! I can’t tell you all how much I miss hearing “The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!” come echoing back at me. I miss you all. I miss the sundresses and the seersucker suits, the kids hopped up sugar from Easter candy, the college students returning home, having a church full of flowers, brass instruments, and most importantly – you. This is an Easter unlike any other in Church history, as the vast majority of responsible Christians around the world are not in church this morning. And that has to be acknowledged. I won’t pretend that this Easter is normal, because I never want empty churches to be the norm. The women at the tomb experienced both fear and joy, and so we have permission to feel both of those as well. We can be afraid of the Coronavirus while still being joyful that this is Easter.

March 15, 2020 - Lent 3A

Lectionary Readings

In the name of God ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

            Water is one of the few things that is absolutely necessary to life. When scientists search for other planets that might be hospitable to life, they look for signs of water. Our bodies are over half water. The earth is over 70% water, which allows agriculture, industry, and travel to flourish. And even though water contains no nutrients or calories, it is absolutely vital, as dehydration can cause many health issues. And these days we all know the importance of thorough handwashing with water to cleanse our hands. Water is absolutely essential for life.

            This is why seeing Jesus as Living Water or the Water of Life is such a good image for him. Just like water, Jesus is what sustains us, gives us vitality, connects us to one another, and puts us in the flow of love, grace, and peace.

            Water is a constant and important character in Scripture. When God was creating the heavens and the earth, the dome of the sky and the land of the earth were separated from the waters of chaos. These waters though returned and Noah and his family were saved in the ark which sailed the flooded earth. It was through the water of the Red Sea that God led the Hebrew people out of slavery in Egypt into freedom. As the people wandered the dry and barren wilderness, they became thirsty and complained. But God heard their cries and provided water for them out of a rock. When St. Paul reflects upon this event in 1 Corinthians, he says “the rock was Christ.” The Living Water is always with us, even in places that seem to be devoid of water.

            Isaiah, speaking about the salvation of God, writes “With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation” and in today’s Psalm we heard that the waters belong to God for he made them. In Ezekiel, a vision shows us that the temple of God is surrounded by rivers, which is also seen in Revelation when we are told that the waters of life flow from the throne of the Lamb. And our need for water is found in Psalm 42 which says, “As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.”

            How often do we stop and ponder the wonder of water? Perhaps on a warm summer day when we have a cold glass of water? Maybe when we jump into a pool? But most of the time we encounter water without thinking much about it – brushing teeth, cooking, washing dishes. We are surrounded by water, but we don’t always stop to consider just how saving water is. But if you are living in places with lead-contaminated water or with water shortages, you very much know how important water is. When Tyler and I were in Israel last month, we went out to the desert and saw the Dead Sea. And in addition to seeing it, we were clearly able to see where it used to be. But it’s drying up and that could have devastating effects in the region. Water gives life.

            Throughout the New Testament, water also says something about the salvation of God. In the passage we heard today, Jesus speaks of himself as the living water that will quench all thirsts. A few chapters later, Jesus will say “Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.” It is with water that Jesus shows us how to love one another in washing feet. When Jesus’ side is pierced, blood and water flow out. And, of course, the way in which we enter the Body of Christ is by the waters of Baptism which hold all of these meanings in the font of God’s abundant grace.

            When we read about this encounter between Jesus and the Samaritan woman, we need to have all of those images of water in our head to understand what is going on. Jesus approaches her and asks for a drink of water because he is thirsty. In this act, Jesus is a rebel. Jews and Samaritans had a 500 year-long feud between them, hence the woman’s question as to why Jesus, a Jew, was asking her, a Samaritan, for a drink. There’s also the issue that, in their culture, a man would never approach a woman like this, especially when she is alone. Jesus is crossing some deeply engrained social boundaries. Especially so because this woman would have been looked down upon for her situation. John makes it clear that this encounter comes at noon – the hot part of the day. In that culture, or really any culture, when you have outside work to do, you do it early in the morning before the heat of the day. The fact that she’s coming at noon to the well isn’t because she had been busy all morning with other errands, it’s because she’s an outcast who has to come when others aren’t around. Jesus says that she’s had five husbands and is living with a man who isn’t her husband.

She’s a woman, she’s got a bad reputation, and she’s Samaritan, but Jesus still initiates this encounter with her. Jesus meets us where we are, regardless of who we are, what we’ve done, and what we haven’t done. As we heard in Romans, “For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly… God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” We heard a similar sentiment in today’s Collect, that “we have no power of ourselves to help ourselves.” To the outcast, to the rejected, to the lost, to the helpless, to the enemy, Jesus comes with the Water of Life.

            The water that Jesus gives us is Living Water. Which can mean two things, which is where some of the confusion in this conversation comes from. At a literal level, “living water” means water that is flowing, as in a river or stream as opposed to a pool or a well, where the water is stagnant and not moving. Jesus, though, is thinking more in terms of the water which gives eternal life and quenches the thirst of our souls. This double meaning helps us to understand that Jesus is always moving. He’s always at work in the world, never stagnant or found in just one place. This is why he said that true worshipers won’t have to worry about going to a specific geographic location to worship, but rather can worship in spirit and truth.
                It's amazing how the lectionary that the church uses seems to always know what we will need to hear. On this Sunday when we are practicing our social distancing and are not gathered in person, we still gather in spirit and truth to praise God. Though it pains me that you all are not here with me, I know that you are in spirit and truth and I take great comfort in that our Lord tells us this.
              Jesus quenches our thirst for love, meaning, and purpose and he’s always on the move with us. Through the waters of Baptism, the Water of Life will become a spring within that gushes up to eternal life. Just as there is no wind if the air is not moving, the love of God in Jesus is always flowing through us as living water and taking us to new places in his currents of grace.

            This story of the encounter between Jesus and the Samaritan is so rich, there are many more things that I could say about it, but I want to focus your attention in on one detail. Towards the end of the story, after the disciples have come back from their run into town to find food, the woman leaves her water jar there by the well and goes into the town and tells people to “Come and see.” She’s encountered the Living Water, and so she doesn’t need her water jar any longer. This doesn’t mean that she has become permanently hydrated and never needs to drink again, but it means that she knows that she’s been forgiven, that she’s loved, that she is accepted. Her soul is no longer thirsty. She can be a part of the community again and doesn’t need to come alone to get water.

            The jug that she leaves behind is symbolic for all the things that we can leave behind once we’ve encountered Jesus and have that gushing spring of grace in our lives. We can leave behind our insecurities about what other people think of us, we can forget about our doubts about whether or not we’ve accomplished enough, we can stop worrying about whether or not we are forgiven and loved (because we are), we can give up all of our chasing after our own glory and rest in that we are already justified in Christ.

            Jesus is the river of love that flows from the heart of God to us. We can rest in that love as the gracious gift of abundant life that we have been given through Jesus. This is always important, but especially so with all that’s going on in this world. The spreading of the coronavirus is a very serious matter. In speaking with a colleague in ministry this past week, I compared our situation to 9/11, and I think it’s a fair comparison. We are on edge, we are uncertain of how this will impact our lives, we aren’t sure where the threats might come from. The difference is that instead of an explosion of anxiety, this is a very slow burn, which means that the stress, confusion, and frustration is going to compound and test the social fabric of our entire world.

            We’re already seeing it happen – fearinduced hoarding of hand sanitizer and bottled water, selfish behaviors such as trying to make money off of a very serious disease, mistrust of anyone who coughs. When Jesus encountered outcasts such as this Samaritan woman, or a group of lepers, or those deemed “unclean,” he met them with compassion.

This virus will give us chances to tell people to “come and see” the faith that will sustain us. It is the faith that sustained the Church during the outbreaks of the Black Death, Yellow Fever, and Spanish Flu. It is the faith that will allow us to reach out in loving service to those who are ill. It is the faith that will allow us to be generous in helping non-profits and small businesses stay afloat in this difficult economic time. It is the faith that will keep us together even though we’ll have to make lifestyle changes and practice more “social distancing.” It is the faith that will give us the compassion to help those who end up quarantined in making sure that they get the meals they need or assisting with childcare if schools end up being temporarily closed. It is the faith that will help us not to panic but to go to the well of Living Water and trust that all shall be well, that all shall be well, and that all manner of things shall be well. Those of you who are regulars at St. Luke's know that I often cite that line from Julian of Norwich. When she was six, the Black Plague swept through her village of Norwich, England. So when she said "all shall be well," she said it out of a great well of faith. I pray that her words might be a comfort to us dealing with the coronavirus. This Living Water is what we all need to come and see. We’re going to get through this because we have each other. We’re going to get through this because Jesus is our Living Water.

March 8, 2020 - Lent 2A

Lectionary Readings

In the name of God ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

            Have you ever had to start over? Maybe it was after being laid off from a job and having to start from scratch. Maybe it was after getting divorced and realizing that life isn’t playing out the way you thought it would. Maybe it was after not getting into the school that you hoped to attend and you had to go back to the drawing board. Maybe an idea you had just didn’t go as planned and was a total flop. Starting over is scary, full of uncertainty, and even if it leads to a good, or better, end result, the process of disorientation is not often a pleasant one.

March 1, 2020 - Lent 1A

Lectionary Readings

In the name of God ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

            In February, our own Dr. Trevor Eppehimer led a fantastic Sunday school class on The Powers That Be. The premise of the book that inspired the class is that there are real forces in this world that, though invisible, very much impact societies and individuals. Think of getting swept up in something that you’re not very interested in. I know this might make some of you think less of me, but I’m just really not a soccer fan. But when the US team was playing well in the last World Cup, I kind of got swept up in the fever. I watched them play and cheered on the goals. Or think about the Olympics, how many of us ordinarily care about curling? Well, that same thing is true for things like selfishness, or retaliation, or fear. These forces are real and by ignoring their reality we only make ourselves into unwitting slaves to them.

January 19, 2020 - Epiphany 2A

Lectionary Readings

O Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world, have mercy on us.

O Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world, have mercy on us.

O Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world, grant us your peace. Amen.

            Generally, when someone calls you an animal name, it isn’t a compliment. Bird-brain, dog, pig, scaredy-cat, mousy – these are not names we want. For every positive one, like “stallion,” there are many more with a negative connotation. It seems, then, that perhaps John the Baptist did not consult with a public relations firm before deciding to give Jesus the moniker “Lamb of God.”

January 12, 2020 - Baptism of our Lord

Lectionary Readings

O God, at the Baptism of our Lord you opened the heavens and declared him to be your Beloved. Grant that by Baptism we might be joined to him in your gracious love. Amen.

            I have a good friend who has been searching for jobs for the past couple of months. He’s asked me to read through his application materials a few times as he tries to succulently describe who he is and his sense of vocation. The titles and dates of previous positions are easy to get. Listing duties and degrees is fairly simple. The hard parts are the identity statements – who are you and why would you be a good fit here? And it’s not just in a job search that we struggle with these questions. We all struggle with those questions of “who am I now,” “who do I want to be,” and “what is my purpose?”

December 25, 2019

Lectionary Readings (Epistle reading)

In the name of the Word made flesh, Jesus Christ. Amen.

            Over the past month, we’ve been focusing on the Incarnation, the central tenet of Christianity that God became human in the flesh of Jesus of Nazareth. This belief is most clearly seen in this morning’s reading from John: “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” But to say that Jesus is God incarnate can be a rather ambiguous claim. Yes, the whole point of the Incarnation is that God became specific and tangible in Jesus, but when we say that “God became man,” what do we really mean? After all, the word “God” is merely a linguistic symbol for that which is beyond our comprehension. So the question before us on the Feast of the Incarnation is what became incarnate in Jesus?

December 24, 2019 - Christmas Eve

Lectionary Readings

Eternal God, in the stillness of this night you sent your almighty Word to pierce the world’s darkness with the light of salvation: give to the earth the peace that we long for and fill our hearts with the joy of heaven through our Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

            We are Christmas people. Yes, I realize that all Christians celebrate Christmas, but it’s been said that Episcopalians are Christmas people. Through the season of Advent, I preached about the importance of the Incarnation in our Anglican tradition and tonight, the Feast of the Incarnation, is where we celebrate and glory in that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

November 24, 2019 - Christ the King

Lectionary Readings

God the Father, help us to hear the call of Christ the King and to follow in his service, whose kingdom has no end; for he reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, one glory. Amen.

            In Monroe, Ohio, neighbors banded together to file a formal complaint against a man in their development who, in the middle of September, had put up his Christmas lights. In San Antonio, Texas, a homeowners’ association forced a resident to take down the Christmas lights that were shining brightly on November 1. Yes, we’ve all noticed that retails stores seem to pivot to Christmas as soon as Halloween is over, and I understand that’s how commercialism works. They’re just trying to capitalize on holiday cheer, which might be of interest to an economist, but not as much to a theologian. Instead, what I’m intrigued by is what we might call the “Christmas creep.”

October 27, 2019 - Proper 25C

Lectionary Readings

In the name of God ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

“Trust in God and don’t be a jerk.” Isn’t that what the parable that Jesus tells about the Pharisee and tax collector says? While trusting in God and being nice to other people are both good life lessons, if that’s all we take away from this parable then Jesus is little more than a Middle-Eastern version of Aesop. Jesus’ teachings were radical and led to those around him wanting to kill him; and a fable with the moral of the story being “trust in God and be nice” isn’t radical and certainly isn’t a capital offense. The parables though are subversive and surprising stories about how God’s ways our not our ways, and the reversal of the tax collector being justified is such a surprising twist that we know this is more than a simple story about humility.

October 20, 2019 - Feast of St. Luke and Proper 24C

Lectionary Readings

In the name of God ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

            On this blessed morning, we have before us one of those short stories by Jesus that we call parables. What makes the parables so compelling and powerful is that they are stories that begin on earth and take us into the Kingdom of Heaven. As such, a parable is not something that we take, analyze, and then learn a lesson from; instead, a parable is a gift that we receive and enter into. We don’t study a parable to transform its meaning for our modern lives, rather a parable transforms us. This morning I want to quickly give you the fairly standard reading of the parable and then get to two examples of how the parable has continued to be true throughout history.

            The parable of the persistent widow, or the unjust judge, both titles work, is a parable using the literary device called “how much more.” Many times in Luke’s writing, he uses this tool to show how even a flawed person can do good things, reminding us that the good God will always do good for us. A good judge is one who compassionately and fairly applies the law. Luke’s judge is not that sort of judge; he doesn’t fear God and he doesn’t respect any person. So when this widow, someone without many legal rights, comes to him to plead her case, he really couldn’t care less about her. So this judge dismisses her and tells her to “get lost.”

            Now, in this parable, we don’t know what the widow’s case is about. She might be in the right or she might be in the wrong. But that’s not what matters. She is persistent and scrappy and decides that she’s going to get justice by annoying this judge until he hears her case. Well, it works. This unjust judge might not fear God or respect people, but he doesn’t like being bothered, so he makes the problem go away by listening to this widow. And if this unjust judge is willing to grant justice because he doesn’t want to be bothered, then how much more will our very good and very just and very loving God grant us justice? It’s a parable of grace because God doesn’t make us argue our faith or prove our worth. It doesn’t matter if we are good people or bad people, and the reality is that we are all both. But we are found righteous not because of the merits of our case, but because of the mercy of God who forgives us and grants us justice in Jesus Christ.

            This isn’t a parable about providing a formula for prayer. The point of the parable is not “If you annoy God with incessant prayers, like this judge, God will eventually get tired of hearing from you and give you what you ask for.” Parables aren’t about us, they always point us to the grace of God. So it would be a very incomplete reading of this parable to come away and think that the point is that we just need to be persistent in prayer. Instead, the parable points to the fact that we can trust in God to grant justice; and, indeed, this is exactly what God does on the Cross. Our sins are not forgiven because we are persistently faithful, but rather because God is persistently and relentlessly loving. This parable wants us to put our faith, trust, obedience, and hope in the God who persistently grants justice. And because we know that God is always with us and for us, we then have a firm foundation to stand upon when we demand justice in our own day.

            There are two stories about this sort of persistence rooted in faith in a persistent God that I want to consider as we celebrate our patron saint, Luke, and this parish that bears his name. The first is related to this afternoon’s debut of our Becoming Beloved Community video and panel discussion. Black faith is something that is certainly about persistence rooted in the persistence of God. About a month ago I realized that I, unintentionally, had a rather narrow focus when it came to what, or rather, who, I was reading. So far this year, I’ve read 54 books and when I went through my list to see how many of the authors were white males, it found that only seven were written by women and four were written by non-whites. If it’s true that you are what you eat, then it’s also probably true that you think what you read. The next several books that I will be reading will be authored by black theologians.

I’d commend such an audit to all of you. Think about what you are engaging with. Who is writing the books you read? Who is making the music that you listen to? Who is producing and acting in the shows and movies that you watch? Who are the politicians that you find yourself supporting? If the people that you read, listen to, and follow are all people that look exactly like us, then I’d suggest that we need to widen our vision. Scripture tells us that humanity is created in the image of God, but if we’re only looking at one corner of that image, then we’re missing out on a lot. And I’m not saying that white men should be ignored, that would essentially end my career, but I am saying that I have found great richness in paying attention to a greater diversity of voices.

One of those voices has been an Episcopal priest and scholar, Kelly Brown Douglas. She splits her time between being the Dean for Episcopal Studies at Union Seminary in New York and being the Canon Theologian at the National Cathedral in Washington. In a book called Stand Your Ground: Black Bodies and the Justice of God, she writes about the black faith, the way that black people experienced Christianity. She says that black faith is rooted in the understanding that God is the God of freedom. By that, she means that God is ultimately free and can do whatever God chooses to do, and that God is most fully expressed in the acts of liberation and freedom.

This faith insists that God works for justice, the very same trust that the parable points us towards. With this trust in God’s justice, black faith is grounded in the hope that God’s got the whole world in his hands. So even when we are surrounded by pain and brokenness, there is an abiding trust in God to make all things right. And because of this, black faith is about resistance to anything that denies freedom. Since God is about freedom, freedom is our calling and our cause.

In the parable, the judge says “I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out.” That’s really not the most accurate translation – the term the judge uses comes from the sport of boxing, so a more linguistically faithful translation would be “I will grant her justice, so that she doesn’t keep giving me a black eye.” This is what black faith is about. With hope and trust in God to grant justice and freedom as the foundation, black faith then expects, demands, and works for justice in this world. Because to demand justice is to worship the God of justice. With this understanding of black faith as articulated by Brown Douglas, I have come to more deeply understand the persistence demonstrated by people who have suffered so much discrimination. The Beloved Community video and panel discussion this afternoon is an expression of this hope and trust in God to make all things right and gives us all an example of what a persistent faith in a persistent God is all about.

Another place where the truth of this parable can be seen in our own history as a parish. St. Luke’s was established in 1753 by an act of British Parliament, but it wasn’t until 75 years later, in 1828, that our first, and current, church building was constructed. This very church in which we are sitting is a testament to a persistent faith in a persistent God. When St. Luke’s was established, it was really more about establishing colonial boundaries than it was about setting up a congregation. And when you read the letters from the second half the 1700s, you read about the struggles of establishing a congregation in Salisbury, the western frontier at the time. And the reason why we have this great legacy of faith at St. Luke’s is because of a group of scrappy women who remind me of the widow from the parable.

When the first Bishop of North Carolina, John Ravenscroft, came to Salisbury on September 7, 1823, he Confirmed thirteen people, all women, who in the face of adversity and struggles for funding, nevertheless persisted and got this church built. They reestablished the heart of St. Luke’s as a worshipping congregation, and because of their persistent faith in a persistent God, we are here today.

My brothers and sisters, as we celebrate this parish today for the Feast of St. Luke, we do so with a reminder in Jesus’ parable that God is fiercely persistent and reliable when it comes to granting justice. And this trust in God has been seen throughout history in the form of a persistent faith in a persistent God. Because of the history of St. Philip’s congregation in Salisbury, we are blessed to have a more diverse congregation than we typically would have. When St. Philip’s, a historically African-American Episcopal congregation, was closed in 1970 and absorbed into St. Luke’s, those members brought with them a faith that is rooted in God’s desire for freedom, and we have all benefited from having that aspect of the faith lifted up in our community. We see this persistent hope in the 75-year struggle through obstacles to establish this parish not only as a geographic boundary, but as a beacon of abundant grace, intentional worship, and beloved community in Salisbury.

And so now, it’s our turn. We are the St. Luke’s of 2019. As Jesus’ parable shows us, we are grounded in the grace of God who persistently loves us. We have the examples of black faith and faithful women in our history to inspire us in this faith. We have a patron saint, Luke the physician, who knew something about the power of God to heal wounds and bring reconciliation even in the midst of illness and disease. This is our legacy – a persistent faith in a persistent God.

We are blessed with the opportunity to participate in this legacy. And we can do this by taking part in these conversations about race and the Beloved Community, by giving generously in our stewardship drive to make sure that St. Luke’s persists and thrives as a parish, by finding our peace not in making a strong case for ourselves but in trusting that God has already declared us to be righteous. The question that our patron saint asked 2,000 years ago as he recorded the Gospel is still one for us to wrestle with today: “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?”

September 29, 2019 - Proper 21C

Lectionary Readings

In the name of the God who is, and was, and is to come ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

            There’s a tension in the Christian faith between what God has done for us, which is everything, and what our response ought to be. You see, when we say that God’s grace is the only thing that matters and that none of the burden of salvation is on us, sometimes we can slip into complacency. But if we overcorrect by claiming that our actions are what bring about our righteousness or the Kingdom of God, well, then we end up diminishing the finality, completeness, and grandeur of what God has done for us in Christ. The trick, as it almost always is, is to let the tension remain instead of trying to resolve it. Think of a piece of string between two points, without tension, there is nothing, but with enough tension between them, beautiful music can be made. Yes, faith rests solely on the grace of God, but like a tree with the roots of this grace in our lives there is an expectation of fruitfulness in word and deed.

September 15, 2019 - Proper 19C

Lectionary Readings

In the name of the God who finds the lost. Amen.

            “The fool has said in his heart, ‘There is no God.’” In our modern context, it might seem like the opposite of that is true. Many people find faith to be antiquated superstitions and younger generations aren’t walking away from religion as much as they’re not even engaging with it in the first place. Atheism is no longer a concept, it is the fastest-growing religion in America. So for much of society, they look at the church and they say “How foolish and silly that all is.”