sola gratia

In preparation for this week’s message, I’ve been considering Jesus’ parables from the fifteenth chapter of St. Luke’s gospel—particularly that of the prodigal son.  My life and ministry have always been oddly connected to this narrative for a number of reasons—not the least of which is it’s the text I used to preach my first sermon.  I don’t remember much about that offering, other than it was quite short (I believe about seven or eight minutes) and followed the standard “as the son strayed from his father, so we’ve all strayed from God/as the father welcomes him back, so God welcomes us back” model.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that; it’s a perfectly legitimate reading of the parable, I think, because it’s true: God does welcome us back, time and again, though we’re prone to wander. But as I re-read the story, I encountered some of its words in ways I previously hadn’t.   Toward the end, as we know, the wayward son returns.   And the elder son, inc...

Repentance.  It’s a central word in the Christian faith.   The idea’s present from the very first verses of the earliest-written gospel, with a camel hair-clad preacher “proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” [1]   Especially during this present season of Lent, the call seems to pop up time and again: in our liturgies, in our prayers, and in our hymnody, we’re over and over beckoned to repent. And the scripture readings for the third Sunday in Lent are no exception.   A common thread of the human being’s need for repentance is clearly traceable throughout—from the prophet’s admonition to the wicked to “forsake their way” and “return to the Lord ,” [2] to St. Paul’s caution against desiring (craving, lusting after) evil. Yet the call to repent is possibly nowhere clearer than in the gospel lesson.  Jesus, speaking with some folks about persons who’d been tragically killed, puts the question to his listeners: Do you think their fate...

One bread, one body, one Lord of all, one cup of blessing which we bless. And we, though many throughout the earth, we are one body in this one Lord. -"One Bread, One Body" (John B. Foley) Christians are good at finding things about which we disagree.  This has been the case since before the Church’s birth, and continues to be true at every level: universal, denominational, and congregational.  We debate doctrine, quarrel over worship style, and argue about what color the sanctuary carpet should be.  Frankly, it seems at times that there isn’t much about which we concur. Even concerning things about which we generally agree, like the necessity of Eucharistic observance, we find some degree of discord as it pertains to the details.  While all Christians partake of this meal in some form, we have vastly differing opinions about it.  How often should it be celebrated; is it something we ought to do weekly, monthly, quarterly, annually?  When ...

First Sunday in Lent (C) | 17-Feb-13 Deuteronomy 26.1-11 | Romans 10.8 b -13 | Luke 4.1-13 Once upon a time, there was a painter.   One day, he made a deal to paint a woman’s house for $1,000.   But when he got started, and realized how much time and effort it was going to take to paint the whole house, he decided that he needed to do something to increase his profit on the job.   And so, since the woman didn’t really keep an eye on him when he painted, he began to mix the paint with thinner.   After all, he figured, paint is expensive.   And by adding in thinner, he’d be able to make a can of paint go farther—thus lowering his costs, and increasing his gain. As he tabulated his earnings and the amount of money he was saving, he kept adding in more and more thinner.   By the time the house was finished, he was quite proud of himself.   He’d turned a tidy little profit, and the woman would never know what he’d done.   That is, until h...

Listening is important, though it isn’t always easy.  For instance: a couple of years ago, one of my parishioners stopped me following Sunday morning worship.  He told me that, the previous Sunday, he’d come through the line after the service to shake my hand.  I’d asked him how he was, and he’d replied that his shoulder was giving him some problems.  My response?  “Good, glad to hear it!”  Needless to say, I was stunned and rather embarrassed by this revelation.  Still, I can’t say precisely why it happened.  Perhaps it was misfiring synapses.  Perhaps old age is setting in.  Perhaps someone else was talking to me at the same time.  Regardless, I wasn’t listening well.  I’m just fortunate that this particular congregant has a good sense of humor, and lovingly teases me about my faux pas.              So yes, listening is important.  It’s an essential compon...

Growing up, I had a very close relationship with the son of one of my sisters.  Frankly, we were more like brothers than uncle and nephew.  And part of this, I'm sure, was because there were only four years between our ages.  Still, me being older, I was typically "in charge" in the games we'd play, usually assuming a leadership role of sorts. For instance, when we pretended we were Ghostbusters, I was always Peter Venkman; my nephew was always Egon Spengler.  When we got older, and imagined we were Chicago Bulls, he was always the Scottie Pippen to my Michael Jordan.  But perhaps the way in which I exerted my leadership most came when we played Super Mario Bros.; I was, without fail, Mario.  For those who remember the original Nintendo console, you know how big a deal that is: the person playing as Mario essentially controlled the game as the only one who could pause or restart it.  (I admittedly used this ability to my nephew's detriment on more th...

In a letter written toward the end of the eighteenth century, Benjamin Franklin affirmed that wine is "a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy."  Aficionados of the fruit of the vine would likely concur.  What's often missed, however, are scriptural bases for a statement such as Franklin's. This week we'll be two Sundays removed from the Epiphany, and the gospel text from St. John is the story of the wedding in Cana: the one which features Jesus' miraculous transformation of water into wine.  A well-known tale, even to those who are barely familiar with Christian tradition, it's typically considered Jesus' first miracle (though only the fourth gospel includes the story). And it happens something like this: Jesus, his mother, and his disciples are all invited to a wedding.  Details about whose wedding this was aren't included.  But it was probably a pretty big celebration, as weddings in that time tended to be, with the fes...