That Faith Lives in You

20^th Sunday after Pentecost; Yr. C, October 6, 2013

Habakkuk 1:1-4,2:1-4; Psalm 37:1-10; 2 Timothy 1:1-14; Luke 17:5-10

Sermon preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

The disciples cry out to Jesus, “Increase our faith!”  Jesus responds saying, “If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea’, and it would obey you.”  The disciples are pleading.  What is Jesus doing?  Is he berating them?  Is he admonishing them?  That’s the tone I often hear in this passage, the frustrated tone of parent or teacher.  But what if Jesus is really encouraging them?  What if Jesus is using a voice of love and compassion that I too often forget to use with myself? 

What if he’s talking more like St. Paul, in Paul’s letter to Timothy.  I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.  Paul reassures Timothy.  Paul recognizes the signs of faith in him, signs that, for whatever reason, Timothy may not be seeing in himself.  Maybe Timothy had even been pleading with Paul!  Increase my faith. 

I know what that’s like … to feel like your faith doesn’t amount to a hill of beans.

Eternal Tenting

18^th Sunday after Pentecost; Yr. C, September 22, 2013

Amos 8:4-7; Psalm 113; 1 Timothy 2:1-7; Luke 16:1-13

Sermon preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

The parable of the Dishonest Steward is one that troubles most preachers when it pops up in the lectionary.  It’s a parable, a wisdom story, so I guess it’s good to remember that it is more like a Buddhist koan than an allegory.  This is one of those parables that makes us think, really think … because it doesn’t make sense to our ears.

Does anyone like hearing the dishonest steward praised?  Does anyone feel that his last ditch effort to make friends of those indebted to the master has any merit?  Would any of you be proud of acting in the same self-serving way?  Does anyone feel the least bit satisfied when Jesus tells us that we are to make friends with dishonest wealth too?  Oh, and by the way … you cannot serve two masters.  No one can serve both God and wealth.  Clear as a bell?  Everyone get the point?  I usually don’t.

Finding Forgiveness

17^th Sunday after Pentecost; Yr. C, September 15, 2013

Exodus 32:7-14; Psalm 51:1-10; 1 Timothy 1:12-17; Luke 15:1-10

Sermon preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

            So a woman lost one of her ten silver coins, and she searched the house up and down until she found it.  It reminds me of the time I lost an ear ring, and I search the house the car, the pathway to the church door, the parking lot and the grass around my car.  I desperately wanted to find it, because what do you do with just one of a pair of earrings.  But I didn’t find my lost thing.  It stayed lost, probably sitting in some obscure dusty corner … waiting to be found.

            I knew that earring was lost, because I still had its partner in my left ear.  The only thing harder then losing it, was telling Nancy that it was gone … because it was her earring.   She had bought them for our wedding in New Hampshire.  Someone told me I should pray to St. Anthony, because that always works, but I didn’t.  That’s never really worked for me.  I just kept looking.  Something inside me made me believe that it was somewhere near by, that I was probably looking right at it, but not seeing it.  If only I looked in the right place … the lost thing would be found.  I imagined myself finding it, and running inside to tell Nancy.  Look, the lost have been found, I’d say!  It’s right here in my hand! We’d both smile and jump for joy.  We’d do a little happy dance in the kitchen and celebrate!  My guilt would be lifted and peace restored.  But I never did find it.

I have set before you life and death ….

16^th Sunday after Pentecost; Yr. C, September 8, 2013

Deuteronomy 30:15-20; Psalm 1; Philemon 1-21; Luke 14:25-33

Sermon preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

Nothing has been more in the news this past week than the situation in Syria, and the proposed military action the president set before Congress.  I have heard about it on the radio, on numerous postings on Facebook, on TV news and NPR talk shows.  Everyone is talking about it, and offering their own opinion.  To all of that, I say, thank God.  I am so grateful that the president did not just run ahead and act on his own.  I’m grateful that he didn’t call Congress back early to make a rushed decision.  I’m glad that we’ve all had the opportunity to talk about what’s happened and what’s been proposed.  I don’t know how this will all end up, and I don’t want to guess at the political side of all this … I’m just happy that we’re talking about it.

The “Big” Table

15^th Sunday after Pentecost; Yr. C, September 1, 2013

Sirach 10:12-18; Psalm 112; Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16; Luke 14:1, 7-14

Sermon preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

            Every other year, Nancy, Hannah and I travel to Pittsburgh to be with my family at Christmas.  On one of the evenings when we’re there, we usually have a big family meal.  I have six brothers and sisters.  When we were growing up, nine of us just barely fit at the dining room table.  We each had our own seat.  Mine was right next to my mother.  My younger brother sat at the end opposite my father, and my older sister across the table.  God forbid anyone take your seat.  It was yours, and if you weren’t there you were missed.  As we got older, we fit even more snuggly around that table.  Then, some of us got married and had children and little hands needed help at the table.  Now at Christmas we’re trying to fit close to twenty people at that same table that barely fit nine.  Let’s just say, it’s a little tight.

Bent by a Spirit

14^th Sunday after Pentecost; Yr. C, August 25, 2013

Isaiah58:9b-14; Psalm 103:1-8; Hebrews 12:18-29; Luke 13:10-17

Sermon preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

            For our marriage blessing two years ago a friend gave us a butterfly bush.  They’re beautiful bushes with bright purple brushes of flowers.  I was excited to get it and enjoyed walking around the yard to see where it might fit.  I finally planted it behind our garage in an area that had been covered with violets.  It did well into the fall, and then like many plants lost its leaves for the winter months.  In the spring I was excited to see how it would burst back into life.  I anticipated those brilliant spires of color like I would fireworks on the 4^th of July. 

            But when spring turned into summer, the plant failed to thrive.  Each leaf struggled forth from its bud and several of the main stems turned brown and died.  Afraid that my new shrub wasn’t going to last the summer, I began watering it more faithfully and adding fertilizer to give it strength.  As the long summer days faded to fall, it was still limping along … bent and stubby.  Blossoms were faded and few.  Clearly, its spirit was breaking.