SOME Recent sermons

Feast of Christ the King • November 20, 2011 (The Rev. Richard Smith)

Today, this Feast of Christ the King, is the last Sunday of the church year. It is a final moment. We're back to standard time now, and the nights are getting longer. Winter is approaching. It is, understandably, a moment when the church wants us to think about "final" things—"final" not in the sense of chronological time, but final in the sense of things that are of ultimate importance.

It's like what happens to many people as they approach their final moment of death. It's as though God gives them a special grace: They get in touch with those things that are most important. They suddenly are able to sort out what they most value and cherish and they gain the freedom to blow off all the trivial things that don't really matter.

So this last Sunday of the year is, similarly, a moment of clarity when the church wants us to focus on what is of ultimate importance.

And what would you expect to hear from the church in such a moment? Well, given the church's obsession with sex over the years, you might think we'd be hearing about what we should or should not do in bed. But that's not what we hear.

Or maybe we would expect to hear about prayer and worship. After all, this is central to our lives as people of faith. It's when we come together each week, and break bread, and tell the stories, and try to make sense out of our lives. So maybe we should expect to hear something about the importance of worship. But that's not what we hear either.

Instead, what does the church put before us today as being of ultimate importance? These words of Jesus:

When I was hungry, did you give me food?
When I was thirsty, did you give me drink?
When I was a stranger, an immigrant, did you welcome me?
When I was naked, did you clothe me?
When I was sick or in prison, did you visit me?

Even though we have each heard these words many times before, they are hard to fully understand. We know what the words mean in our heads, but it's hard to grasp them with our hearts.
Because, with this gospel passage, as with the entire gospel of Jesus, whether we understand depends on where we stand.

Download the whole sermon here.

Pentecost 3 (The Rev. Richard Smith)

Here’s a story a Jewish friend once told me.

At first, at the dawn of creation, all the light was concentrated in one place, one great light to illumine the entire universe. But then something happened, and the light was shattered, and it flew in a trillion small pieces to every corner of the universe--tiny shards of light in even the smallest, most insignificant corner of the universe. And the task of every Jew, this woman told me, is to notice these tiny shards of light, and celebrate each and every one, and then gather them all together once again. In this way, she said, Jews fulfill what is their primary task—Tikhun olam, they call it in Hebrew--repairing the world. Gathering together all these broken shards of light to repair the universe. Tikhun olam.

Now Jesus, as you know was not a Christian. He was a Jew. And as a devout Jew he took this task of repairing the world very seriously. And so he was always on the lookout for these tiny shards of light. And he could find them in the most unlikely places and people. Sometimes he could see things in people even they didn’t even know they had.

Trinity 2011 (By Christopher Evans)

"…have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth" Genesis 1:28

The Rublev Icon

Some of us may remember when today, Trinity Sunday, marked the passage of the Episcopal Church Year into the summer months following Whitsunday or Pentecost and the fifty days of Easter. For most of Anglican history and of Church history in the Isles before our several Sixteenth and Seventeenth reformations, Trinity Sunday and the Season after Trinity marked a distinctive time from that of our Western catholic brothers and sisters. I think it a shame we have lost this distinctive seasonal emphasis precisely because it is unfolds a particular vision of life together in Christ.

Like the St. Rublev icon on prominent display in our sanctuary this morning, our former Church Year invited us into receiving and responding to, that is participating, in the life of God in a particular way. All of our human social worlds, all of the earth, indeed all of creation, the entire cosmos, finds itself abiding in and living and moving and having being in the triple embrace of God whether acknowledged, rejected, received, or despised.

Easter 5 2011 (By Claire Dietrich)

This morning's readings are filled with incredible reminders of the gifts we have been given through the life, death and resurrection of Christ. And because they are so profound, and so true, I always find myself sad to reflect upon how they have been - at times - interpreted to justify an exclusive kind of Christianity – one shaped by sharp lines dividing "us", the followers of Christ, and a shadowy, elusive "them".

Today's Gospel has been especially abused. "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also." In my experience, this is one of those Gospels liberal Christians shy away from because of the larger cultural context we find ourselves in. Many Christians interpret this to mean that only those who declare Jesus as their Lord and Savior can know God. That only they will be "saved". That understanding Jesus as "the way" usually implies that all people of other faiths, and even all Christians who understand this teaching differently, are doomed to eternal damnation and suffering.

This is a very sad, very small interpretation of a profoundly generous, loving God. And it's a shame that our response is often an awkward silence, because today's Gospel does have much to tell us about Jesus, and our faith.

Download the whole sermon here.

Easter 4 2011 (By Jim Borrazás)

+ In the Name of God, Holy, Living, and True

I have something to tell you. I heard the voice of a prophet on Market Street not long ago, a prophet proclaiming a very unwelcome truth... But on second thought, I can't tell you that story now, so let's leave it for later.

So let's start over... Good morning. Welcome to Good Shepherd Sunday. The Fourth Sunday of Easter every year takes up the theme of the Good Shepherd from the 10th chapter of John's Gospel. This is year A, so we heard the first part of the Good Shepherd discourse, in which Jesus sets up the contrast between the good shepherd and the other kind, and then goes on to talk about the difference between the sheep's relationship to each kind of shepherd, the good one and the other kind.

Download the whole sermon here.

Good Friday 2011 (By Rebecca Gordon)

Eleven years ago at the Great Easter Vigil here at St. John's I was confirmed in the Episcopal church. It was a beautiful rite. We started as we always do in the darkened garden, standing around the a small hibachi. We all endured the usual suspense – wondering whether the wood would catch or the swirling winds would fight the flames. When we had a good fire going, we lit the paschal candle from it. We prayed and sang in the chilly night, the wind fighting us for our bulletins and a few stars braving the city lights to look down on us. Finally we entered the church each holding her own candle. At the moment when we proclaimed the Resurrection, someone – probably our resident theater tech Cecil Forbes – did some magic and the whole nave blazed with joyful light.

Four days earlier, I had stared into the face of the crucified Christ.

Download the whole sermon here.