And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw God’s Spirit descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from the heavens said, “This is my Son, the Beloved,[e] with whom I am well pleased.”
The sacred myth tells us that Jesus rose from death after three days - what transformation happened in that tomb? Jim Burklo connects the story with our gestation of fear into faith, victimhood into victory, harmful theology into healthy spirituality.
In the wilderness of these days, I find myself tempted to retreat from the world around me. The pandemic has trained me
I wonder what the numerous losses our world has experienced in the past two years may have liberated us from. What joys may we discover in this liberation? In the freedom from the way things were? In the discovery of stars to guide us? In the joy we allow ourselves to take in each new birth.
8/15/21 - Tenants Harbor, ME
I believe that God’s love undergirds creation and is at work always in our world, sometimes despite the seeming evidence to the contrary. And I believe that God’s love is for everyone - it is indeed the bread of life, no matter what symbols or metaphors we use.
While he was dying of cancer, American poet and short story writer Raymond Carver, penned a poem which, although it is but a fragment of a poem, it has the power to move me into the deepest part of my very self. This poem would eventually be titled, “Late Fragment”
Psalm 23 and John 10
“The Lord is my Shepherd. I shall not want” or,“A song for LOVE’s sake: When our LOVE’s the guide by-my-side, I want for nothing.” The translations of this ancient Hebrew hymn may be separated by centuries, but both the English translators of King James and the American Rabbi Jamie Arnold seek to move us deeply into the inner workings of our being.
From within this pandemic wilderness of Lent, we must prepare ourselves to enter our second Holy Week in lockdown. At a time, when so much of our focus revolves around the hope generated by the arrival of vaccines, it occurs to me that we would do well to remember to vaccinate ourselves against more than just COVID.
The following church service was conducted by George Stuart at Toronto New South Wales in Australia March 2021.
It may seem ludicrous for this “progressive preacher” to find herself tempted to pray for a miracle. But the region in which I live has been under a strict stay-at-home order since Boxing Day. So, right about now I sure could use some sort of miracle to occur which would release us all from this COVID enforced lockdown.
What a strange Advent this has been. In the midst of this pandemic, so many of our rituals and customs have been set aside as we struggle to do our part to slow the numbers down and bend that curve. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have much of an appetite for John the Baptist’s ranting and raving this Advent Season.
I used to think that the addition of ‘another member of the church’ was a cop-out, and that we really should forgive everyone without counting. Yet in another place Jesus specifically tells his disciples to kick the dirt off their feet as protest to those who will not accept them. This doesn’t sound like forgiveness. Was he contradicting himself? Some would say ‘yes.’ I have even done so myself. But my own cultural circumstances in 2020 have made me revisit this and come out with a different conclusion.
Matthew 18.21-35
Let us use our moral imaginations to try to give Jesus the benefit of the doubt (just as we should do with each other in our daily lives). We all know that there are those who are poor and suffering who still side with the wealthy and healthy rather than with their own people. It is ironic, but we see such things common even in our own time.
A Sermon on Forgiveness
The following sermon was given for my siblings at Montview Presbyterian Church, one of the three local worshipping communities I am affiliated with here in Denver. (The other two being St John’s Episcopal Cathedral and New Beginnings, a Lutheran church that meets within the walls of the Women’s Prison.
Looking upon the sea of interpretations of the story about Jesus walking upon the waters of the Sea of Galilee, makes me feel like that young monk who continues to sink each time he tries to find his way across the lake.
To the powers that be, Jesus’ execution was little more than the routine death of a homeless, outcast who spent far too much time creating social unrest. Nothing more than the insignificant death of a troublemaker without influence in the halls of power, who would not or could not moderate his own behavior. An insignificant troublemaker dies, under the rule of law, and yet, the impact continues to reverberate all around the world, nearly 2000 years after it should have been long forgotten.
As we stand, you and I, at the shoreline of destruction, seeing, in the distance, the end of this American empire, there is but one way forward, old and true: Be not conformed to this society — nor kill yourself to make it love you — but be transformed in it, against it, by the renewal of your mind, body, and spirit. No matter the cost.
Whether you agree with me or not in my diagnosis of our situation, I’m sure you agree that our social divisions are worsening. Painful disagreements on what really matters, who’s right, and who’s wrong are dividing families and friends down the middle. Jesus’ prophecy is coming true in that sense. These divisions are creating real wounds for some, and exposing long-standing wounds for others as people take sides and as the underbelly of our society is being exposed.
How did we get here? All over the world people are marching in the streets proclaiming, “Black lives matter.” Millions have defied the fear of the corona virus, and taken their lives into their hands to venture out into the streets to protest the systemic racism that permeates institutions all over this planet.
“Do You See This Woman?” Jesus poses this very question to Simon, a Pharisee, over a casual meal as found in our gospel reading from today, Luke 7:36-47.
For many of us, social distancing, has created a wall between us and separated us from our lives. Bumping up against this wall over and over again, our noses can almost smell the fear filled mortar which oozes from the newly laid brickwork.
Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “Do one thing every day that scares you.” Where fear can make us believe that we aren’t worthy or relevant, there is inherent value in facing your fears and doing things that take you out of your comfort zone.
It was almost five years ago now, and I can still see her smile. It was a beautiful smile; a smile
Sometimes, in the midst of a crowd we experience the kind of temptations that bring our demons to the surface and we have to take a long hard look at where our desires might lead us. It is not always easy to choose LOVE over fear.
We’re sorry that the world is such a terrible place. We’re sorry that the earth herself is groaning under the weight of our filth. We’re sorry that billionaires rule the world. We’re sorry that my consumption enslaves others in poverty. We’re sorry that justice is so difficult to come by for the poor. We’re sorry, I’m sorry, You’re sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. What do you want from us?
John 1:29-42
“What are you looking for?” It takes a special kind of person to venture out on a cold and snowy January morning to come to church. So, let me ask you again, “What are you looking for?”
A sermon preached on the Second Sunday after Christmas – the readings for this sermon include: John 1:1-9, The Gospel of Thomas 70; Matthew 2:1-12.
Today: the Feast of St. Nicholas, the ancient precursor to the modern Santa Claus, will pass without much ado. Some will try to encourage us to resurrect St. Nicholas to save us all from Santa’s powers for we have gone astray. To those well meaning souls who would rid Christmas of its flagrant consumerism, I can only offer up a feeble, “Baa Humbug!”
Sermon at Peace of Christ Church, September 9, 2018 - "God as She: Why it Matters" - Rev. Aurelia Davila Pratt