All Recordings from St. Gregory's Episcopal Church
Sep 15, 2024 |
The Gift of Grief
| Rev. Dan Puchalla
The Gift of Grief
The Gift of Grief
Kathryn Kinjo Duncan
Immediately following the Sunday service, join us in Founder’s Hall for the first of a three part series for Adult & Youth Formation called “Grant Us a Holy Death.”
We all have experienced grief. So rather than trying to avoid it (spoiler alert: you can’t!), instead we’re going to get curious, and welcome it into our lives. We’ll talk about watching grief happen to others, and how to help them. We’ll also talk about what it feels like when we are the ones experiencing loss – whether it’s death, divorce, job loss, etc. We’ll learn that grief doesn’t shrink with time, but we grow around it instead.
Ah, grief, I should not treat you like a homeless dog
who comes to the back door for a crust, for a meatless bone.
I should trust you.
I should coax you into the house and give you your own corner,
a worn mat to lie on, your own water dish.
You think I don’t know you’ve been living under my porch.
You long for your real place to be readied before winter comes.
You need your name, your collar, and tag.
You need the right to warn off intruders,
to consider my house your own
and me your person
and yourself my own dog.
--Denise Levertov
Kathryn Kinjo Duncan
Immediately following the Sunday service, join us in Founder’s Hall for the first of a three part series for Adult & Youth Formation called “Grant Us a Holy Death.”
We all have experienced grief. So rather than trying to avoid it (spoiler alert: you can’t!), instead we’re going to get curious, and welcome it into our lives. We’ll talk about watching grief happen to others, and how to help them. We’ll also talk about what it feels like when we are the ones experiencing loss – whether it’s death, divorce, job loss, etc. We’ll learn that grief doesn’t shrink with time, but we grow around it instead.
Ah, grief, I should not treat you like a homeless dog
who comes to the back door for a crust, for a meatless bone.
I should trust you.
I should coax you into the house and give you your own corner,
a worn mat to lie on, your own water dish.
You think I don’t know you’ve been living under my porch.
You long for your real place to be readied before winter comes.
You need your name, your collar, and tag.
You need the right to warn off intruders,
to consider my house your own
and me your person
and yourself my own dog.
--Denise Levertov
Sep 08, 2024 |
A Fine Way to Start
| Rev. Dan Puchalla
A Fine Way to Start
As long advertised, this Sunday we celebrate both our patronal feast and the start of our 2024-2025 Program Year. St. Gregory the Great wrote many timeless works. Yet, among all the ink he spilled, my favorite quote of his is starkly simple:
Age quod agis. “Do what you are doing.”
I think there is no better advice for the Christian life. It’s an admonishment not to think too far ahead, not to get overwhelmed by all the problems of the world, not to think we have to figure it all out, and not to let our minds and hearts wander. The work right in front of us is the work God has given us to do. Focus on here and now. Do what you are doing.
So, what are we doing, good people of St. Gregory’s? This Sunday, we’ll take stock of where we are right now in the history of this congregation, and particularly in light of our ongoing exploration of the Letter of James. (And the kids will dive deeper into this letter at their first Blessed Little Adventures class after the service this Sunday.)
Age quod agis. “Do what you are doing.”
I think there is no better advice for the Christian life. It’s an admonishment not to think too far ahead, not to get overwhelmed by all the problems of the world, not to think we have to figure it all out, and not to let our minds and hearts wander. The work right in front of us is the work God has given us to do. Focus on here and now. Do what you are doing.
So, what are we doing, good people of St. Gregory’s? This Sunday, we’ll take stock of where we are right now in the history of this congregation, and particularly in light of our ongoing exploration of the Letter of James. (And the kids will dive deeper into this letter at their first Blessed Little Adventures class after the service this Sunday.)
Sep 01, 2024 |
Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost
| Rev. Dan Puchalla
Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Works and Mirrors
We had such a great day last Sunday, and we have a great Program Year starting on September 8, St. Gregory’s Day. This Sunday is a bit of a rest – a good thing to do on Labor Day Weekend. At the same time, “labor” is a theme we will encounter this Sunday and repeatedly over the next few weeks, as we read from the Letter of James. If you know any line from James, it’s probably this one: “faith without works (labor) is dead.”
This Sunday, we will take our first look at James, who invites us to consider how we figure out who we really are. Shall we see ourselves as an image reflected in a mirror, an image we can manage and control … or is there something else we can look at that reveals our true selves and our true work?
All of our music is covered under our CCLI license #11167839.
We had such a great day last Sunday, and we have a great Program Year starting on September 8, St. Gregory’s Day. This Sunday is a bit of a rest – a good thing to do on Labor Day Weekend. At the same time, “labor” is a theme we will encounter this Sunday and repeatedly over the next few weeks, as we read from the Letter of James. If you know any line from James, it’s probably this one: “faith without works (labor) is dead.”
This Sunday, we will take our first look at James, who invites us to consider how we figure out who we really are. Shall we see ourselves as an image reflected in a mirror, an image we can manage and control … or is there something else we can look at that reveals our true selves and our true work?
All of our music is covered under our CCLI license #11167839.
Aug 18, 2024 |
Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost
| Rev. Dan Puchalla
Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost
Filling Up on Bread
If you’ve noticed that the Gospel readings have been talking a lot about bread lately, you’re not crazy. It’s a quirk of the lectionary that, every three years, we get a bunch of John passages at the end of summer about Jesus as the bread of life. This Sunday, all this bread talk starts getting … well, kind of gross. “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.” Is this just a reference to Communion? Or is there something more, something that gets at what Communion is even supposed to be about. What are we doing when we eat this decidedly unfilling piece of bread? Perhaps, rather than filling us up like the bread that the world gives, this Living Bread is supposed to leave us even hungrier.
If you’ve noticed that the Gospel readings have been talking a lot about bread lately, you’re not crazy. It’s a quirk of the lectionary that, every three years, we get a bunch of John passages at the end of summer about Jesus as the bread of life. This Sunday, all this bread talk starts getting … well, kind of gross. “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.” Is this just a reference to Communion? Or is there something more, something that gets at what Communion is even supposed to be about. What are we doing when we eat this decidedly unfilling piece of bread? Perhaps, rather than filling us up like the bread that the world gives, this Living Bread is supposed to leave us even hungrier.
Aug 11, 2024 |
Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
| Rev. Dan Puchalla
Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost
Arrogance of the Saved
I think about this cartoon a lot, ever since I saw it floating on social media many years ago, when I was still on social media. It’s just too funny and too true of us religious folk and our institutuions. Confidence in God's love for us so easily becomes an occasion for thinking that God loves only us. Assurance that the Spirit reveals to us the truth quickly leads us to think we have the monopoly on truth. Such is the temptation when reading a line from this week’s gospel: Jesus says, “No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me.” It’s so easy to read this to mean that, if we are followers of Jesus, that means that God has specially chosen us and only us.
Too bad for everyone else. Jesus is so lucky to have us!
As we’ll see, though, Jesus actually meant the complete opposite of this thinking when he said this. In fact, Jesus’ teaching this Sunday helps us drill down into the root of such religious arrogance.
I think about this cartoon a lot, ever since I saw it floating on social media many years ago, when I was still on social media. It’s just too funny and too true of us religious folk and our institutuions. Confidence in God's love for us so easily becomes an occasion for thinking that God loves only us. Assurance that the Spirit reveals to us the truth quickly leads us to think we have the monopoly on truth. Such is the temptation when reading a line from this week’s gospel: Jesus says, “No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me.” It’s so easy to read this to mean that, if we are followers of Jesus, that means that God has specially chosen us and only us.
Too bad for everyone else. Jesus is so lucky to have us!
As we’ll see, though, Jesus actually meant the complete opposite of this thinking when he said this. In fact, Jesus’ teaching this Sunday helps us drill down into the root of such religious arrogance.
Aug 04, 2024 |
Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
| Max Smith
Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
Jesus says: believe in me.
Belief – faith – is not simply an assertion: yes, I believe. Particularly for our evangelist John, it is a way of life – a claim on us, a commitment, a set of values around which our lives are structured and lived out. It is the basis of our judgements about good and bad, right and wrong. What you believe determines what you expect; and what you expect determines what you see; and what you see determines what the options are. Jesus says believe in me: which means our lives, our world view, our expectations, the options, and what’s possible are all established in faith, by faith.
The Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning trailer states: our lives are the sum of our choices. And our choices are created, developed, delivered by our faith. This week we look more deeply into what faith means and provides.
Belief – faith – is not simply an assertion: yes, I believe. Particularly for our evangelist John, it is a way of life – a claim on us, a commitment, a set of values around which our lives are structured and lived out. It is the basis of our judgements about good and bad, right and wrong. What you believe determines what you expect; and what you expect determines what you see; and what you see determines what the options are. Jesus says believe in me: which means our lives, our world view, our expectations, the options, and what’s possible are all established in faith, by faith.
The Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning trailer states: our lives are the sum of our choices. And our choices are created, developed, delivered by our faith. This week we look more deeply into what faith means and provides.
Jul 28, 2024 |
Tenth Sunday after Pentecost
| Rev. Dan Puchalla
Tenth Sunday after Pentecost
Miracle of the Overwhelmed
Part of being your priest means learning the culture of this part of Chicagoland. One of the things I’ve learned is that we swim in a culture that values overachieving. Does it seem accurate to say that many adults and children seem constantly driven to do more and to be better? And that cultural drive doesn't hit everyone equally. Now, the desire to stretch ourselves is a good thing. But I think such constant, anxious pressure is a recipe for being overwhelmed and collapsing into a puddle of exhaustion.
This Sunday’s miracle story is about the disciples being absolutely overwhelmed by the work: “How can we feed so many who are hungry?” What’s Jesus’ answer to this overwhelming problem? Just sit back and relax.
Part of being your priest means learning the culture of this part of Chicagoland. One of the things I’ve learned is that we swim in a culture that values overachieving. Does it seem accurate to say that many adults and children seem constantly driven to do more and to be better? And that cultural drive doesn't hit everyone equally. Now, the desire to stretch ourselves is a good thing. But I think such constant, anxious pressure is a recipe for being overwhelmed and collapsing into a puddle of exhaustion.
This Sunday’s miracle story is about the disciples being absolutely overwhelmed by the work: “How can we feed so many who are hungry?” What’s Jesus’ answer to this overwhelming problem? Just sit back and relax.
Jul 21, 2024 |
Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
| Max Smith
Ninth Sunday after Pentecost
Pastor Dan is still away at CCD, and though he’ll be back by Sunday, our deacon Max Smith will be preaching! She requested that I include in my preview the words of the beloved and well-known prayer of St. Francis of Assisi. You can listen to our quartet sing a lovely arrangement of this text here, and read the profound text below.
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:\
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:\
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Jul 14, 2024 |
Eighth Sunday after Pentecost
| The Rev. Dr. Kyle Oliver
Eighth Sunday after Pentecost
Good Morning St Gregory’s.
It is good to be back again, all be it on an utterly, bewildering morning. I tend to think it is unwise for preachers to make big changes to sermons when news breaks on Saturday evening. Doubly so when the situation is so charged and so uncertain. I am going to hold fast to that approach except to say now that what happened yesterday to Former President Donald Trump, to the man who apparently shot him in the ear, to bystanders attending the event and to our Nation, it has all left us confused and scared and moaned. God can handle however you are feeling. I invite us all to be especially patient and gentle with each other this morning and in the days ahead.
It is good to be back again, all be it on an utterly, bewildering morning. I tend to think it is unwise for preachers to make big changes to sermons when news breaks on Saturday evening. Doubly so when the situation is so charged and so uncertain. I am going to hold fast to that approach except to say now that what happened yesterday to Former President Donald Trump, to the man who apparently shot him in the ear, to bystanders attending the event and to our Nation, it has all left us confused and scared and moaned. God can handle however you are feeling. I invite us all to be especially patient and gentle with each other this morning and in the days ahead.
Jul 07, 2024 |
Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
| Rev. Dan Puchalla
Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
Teenage Prophets
Sermon by The Rev. Dan Puchalla
Last Sunday, we read the story of Jairus and his daughter, not as a show of Jesus’ power to bring someone back from the dead, but as a story about a family who had given up on their daughter as she entered adolescence. That theme continues this Sunday, with the story of what happens when youthful Jesus comes back home. What does his rejection by his own family and neighbors reveal to us about intergenerational relationships today? How shall we think about age and who gets to speak with authority?
Sermon by The Rev. Dan Puchalla
Last Sunday, we read the story of Jairus and his daughter, not as a show of Jesus’ power to bring someone back from the dead, but as a story about a family who had given up on their daughter as she entered adolescence. That theme continues this Sunday, with the story of what happens when youthful Jesus comes back home. What does his rejection by his own family and neighbors reveal to us about intergenerational relationships today? How shall we think about age and who gets to speak with authority?
Jun 30, 2024 |
Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
| Rev. Dan Puchalla
Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
Beleaguered by Belief
I shouldn’t admit this … but I kind of detest the word “belief.” It’s a word that has come to mean too many things that I just can’t get behind. “Belief” is used as a shelter for people who want to impose their opinions on others without being subject to opposing facts and arguments. “Belief” is pitted against things like science and history. “Belief” is a way of reducing a complex religious heritage into a list of fundamental things we have to assert in order to belong to that religion. “Belief” squeezes out things like doubt and skepticism. None of these are what I mean when I say that I believe in God, in Jesus Christ, in the Holy Spirit. I wonder if you feel the same.
In this Sunday’s gospel, Jesus encounters two women whose disparate lives become mysteriously intertwined. Their belief looms large in their stories. But what this belief actually means provides an alternative to the modern ways this word is abused and used to abuse others in our time.
I shouldn’t admit this … but I kind of detest the word “belief.” It’s a word that has come to mean too many things that I just can’t get behind. “Belief” is used as a shelter for people who want to impose their opinions on others without being subject to opposing facts and arguments. “Belief” is pitted against things like science and history. “Belief” is a way of reducing a complex religious heritage into a list of fundamental things we have to assert in order to belong to that religion. “Belief” squeezes out things like doubt and skepticism. None of these are what I mean when I say that I believe in God, in Jesus Christ, in the Holy Spirit. I wonder if you feel the same.
In this Sunday’s gospel, Jesus encounters two women whose disparate lives become mysteriously intertwined. Their belief looms large in their stories. But what this belief actually means provides an alternative to the modern ways this word is abused and used to abuse others in our time.
Jun 23, 2024 |
Fifth Sunday after Pentecost
| Max Smith
Fifth Sunday after Pentecost
Storm on the Sea
Our Gospel this week: Jesus calms the sea. A story very well-known and often depicted in paintings. Rembrandt’s painting, The Storm on the Sea of Galilee is perhaps the most famous, but numerous other Masters have painted the scene as well.
For me this story has always seemed odd because four of the disciples were fishermen. They probably had grandfathers, fathers, uncles, and brothers who were fishermen too — people of the sea. They would have had a great sense of the winds and the sea and been acutely aware of the changes and dangers. How could they have been so unaware such a storm was coming?
I think the story must mean something other than the traditional ideas about terror and the power of faith to save us. What’s odd too is that the disciples awaken Jesus with outrage. Don’t you care?? We are perishing here in this boat in the storm! It doesn’t seem the right attitude to use when in need of help. They almost sound bad tempered, petulant. I would expect them to cajole, plead, implore, beg for help. Join us Sunday to consider why Mark 4:35-41 might be up to more than it seems.
Our Gospel this week: Jesus calms the sea. A story very well-known and often depicted in paintings. Rembrandt’s painting, The Storm on the Sea of Galilee is perhaps the most famous, but numerous other Masters have painted the scene as well.
For me this story has always seemed odd because four of the disciples were fishermen. They probably had grandfathers, fathers, uncles, and brothers who were fishermen too — people of the sea. They would have had a great sense of the winds and the sea and been acutely aware of the changes and dangers. How could they have been so unaware such a storm was coming?
I think the story must mean something other than the traditional ideas about terror and the power of faith to save us. What’s odd too is that the disciples awaken Jesus with outrage. Don’t you care?? We are perishing here in this boat in the storm! It doesn’t seem the right attitude to use when in need of help. They almost sound bad tempered, petulant. I would expect them to cajole, plead, implore, beg for help. Join us Sunday to consider why Mark 4:35-41 might be up to more than it seems.
Jun 16, 2024 |
Fourth Sunday after Pentecost
| Rev. Dan Puchalla
Fourth Sunday after Pentecost
This Sunday, all the readings (Ezekiel 17:22-24, Psalm 92:1-4,11-14, and Mark 4:26-34) reference trees in one way or another. I’ve often been drawn to natural imagery in the Bible, because out in the midst of God’s creation is when I feel closest to the divine. So when I first encountered the song “Jesus Christ the Apple Tree” in a college choir, the unusual image of Jesus as an apple tree struck me. I thought it was a strange comparison - and even a little silly! - at first, but when I sat with the lyrics a little longer they began to truly resonate. I was in the middle of a tumultuous faith crisis at the time, and singing the words “This fruit doth make my soul to thrive, it keeps my dying faith alive” felt like I was being thrown a spiritual lifeline.
Jun 02, 2024 |
Second Sunday after Pentecost
| Rev. Dan Puchalla
Second Sunday after Pentecost
(It’s Still) The Season to Chill
Alleluia, summer is upon us. And summer is for chilling. It’s the season of slow growth, as the living earth gently nourishes the fruits that we will harvest in the fall. It’s the season for us to soak in the abundance of life and sunshine. I believe deeply in the spiritual practice of enjoying good weather, green landscapes, and warm waters.
We’ll continue this Sunday in supporting you in this spiritual practice by keeping worship a bit shorter – trimming a bit here and there – so you can enjoy the divine gifts of this season. Even so, you can be assured that every Sunday will still feature beautiful music, thoughtful (if briefer) preaching, and time to connect over coffee.
During these months, we will also be growing our own fruit, working hard in the background on new programming that we will launch in the fall. St. Gregory's Day, September 8, will be the first day of our new Program Year.
Alleluia, summer is upon us. And summer is for chilling. It’s the season of slow growth, as the living earth gently nourishes the fruits that we will harvest in the fall. It’s the season for us to soak in the abundance of life and sunshine. I believe deeply in the spiritual practice of enjoying good weather, green landscapes, and warm waters.
We’ll continue this Sunday in supporting you in this spiritual practice by keeping worship a bit shorter – trimming a bit here and there – so you can enjoy the divine gifts of this season. Even so, you can be assured that every Sunday will still feature beautiful music, thoughtful (if briefer) preaching, and time to connect over coffee.
During these months, we will also be growing our own fruit, working hard in the background on new programming that we will launch in the fall. St. Gregory's Day, September 8, will be the first day of our new Program Year.
May 26, 2024 |
Trinity Sunday
| Rev. Dan Puchalla
Trinity Sunday
The Season to Chill
Alleluia, summer is upon us. And summer is for chilling. It’s the season of slow growth, as the living earth gently nourishes the fruits that we will harvest in the fall. It’s the season for us to soak in the abundance of life and sunshine. I believe deeply in the spiritual practice of enjoying good weather, green landscapes, and warm waters.
Starting this Sunday, we will support you in this spiritual practice by keeping worship a bit shorter – trimming a bit here and there – so you can enjoy the divine gifts of this season. Even so, you can be assured that every Sunday will still feature beautiful music, thoughtful (if briefer) preaching, and time to connect over coffee.
During these months, we will also be growing our own fruit, working hard in the background on new programming that we will launch in the fall. St. Gregory's Day, September 8, will be the first day of our new Program Year. In the meantime, also remember that the major work of this summer is the Rector Discernment process, which I hope you will engage with as fully as possible.
Thank you again to everyone who made our Pentecost celebration such a wonderful day. The generosity of this community with time, talent, and treasure come together to make these events happen.
Alleluia, summer is upon us. And summer is for chilling. It’s the season of slow growth, as the living earth gently nourishes the fruits that we will harvest in the fall. It’s the season for us to soak in the abundance of life and sunshine. I believe deeply in the spiritual practice of enjoying good weather, green landscapes, and warm waters.
Starting this Sunday, we will support you in this spiritual practice by keeping worship a bit shorter – trimming a bit here and there – so you can enjoy the divine gifts of this season. Even so, you can be assured that every Sunday will still feature beautiful music, thoughtful (if briefer) preaching, and time to connect over coffee.
During these months, we will also be growing our own fruit, working hard in the background on new programming that we will launch in the fall. St. Gregory's Day, September 8, will be the first day of our new Program Year. In the meantime, also remember that the major work of this summer is the Rector Discernment process, which I hope you will engage with as fully as possible.
Thank you again to everyone who made our Pentecost celebration such a wonderful day. The generosity of this community with time, talent, and treasure come together to make these events happen.
May 19, 2024 |
Day of Pentecost
| Rev. Dan Puchalla
Day of Pentecost
Can I Hear You Now?
I hope you will be at church this Sunday for the celebration of Pentecost, one of my favorite days in our calendar. The Pentecost story explodes with mystical and downright spooky imagery: tongues of fire, rushing winds, a heavenly bird, visions and dreams and prophecy. (And we will be embracing this mystical vibe in our liturgy this Sunday!) Yet, at its core, Pentecost is really a story about the tragedy of human communication. Why is it so hard to speak so we can be understood? Why is it so hard for us to listen so we can understand? This Sunday, we will wonder about how the spooky and mystical imagery of this extraordinary story reshapes the language we use in our ordinary lives.
I hope you will be at church this Sunday for the celebration of Pentecost, one of my favorite days in our calendar. The Pentecost story explodes with mystical and downright spooky imagery: tongues of fire, rushing winds, a heavenly bird, visions and dreams and prophecy. (And we will be embracing this mystical vibe in our liturgy this Sunday!) Yet, at its core, Pentecost is really a story about the tragedy of human communication. Why is it so hard to speak so we can be understood? Why is it so hard for us to listen so we can understand? This Sunday, we will wonder about how the spooky and mystical imagery of this extraordinary story reshapes the language we use in our ordinary lives.
May 12, 2024 |
Seventh Sunday of Easter
| Max Smith
Seventh Sunday of Easter
Magic? Miracle? Mitzvah? What the difference?
Does it depend on the outcome or the intention? Or the source of it's power?
Which would you prefer to have? To use? To receive?
As Easter people we can take heart in knowing that resurrection literally means to stand again. Does your resurrection hope lie in Magic? Miracle? Or Mitzvah?
Does it depend on the outcome or the intention? Or the source of it's power?
Which would you prefer to have? To use? To receive?
As Easter people we can take heart in knowing that resurrection literally means to stand again. Does your resurrection hope lie in Magic? Miracle? Or Mitzvah?
May 05, 2024 |
Sixth Sunday of Easter
| Rev. Dan Puchalla
Sixth Sunday of Easter
Enough with the Plants, Jesus
So far, we have explored a few different rich images for Piecing It Back Together, our theme for this Easter season. We have contemplated Lego, and how destruction and letting the rubble sit can lead to greater creativity. We have explored the Japanese art of kintsugi and the beauty of visible scars left from where we have been broken apart. We wondered about the experience of those whispers that nudge our choices and how these fragmented experiences might be the pieces that add up to a whole life. I am so thankful not only for Kathryn’s and Max’s sermons, but also for the wise and deep conversations we have shared in the Preacher Talkbacks afterward. Let’s keep the work going!
This Sunday, we turn to the kind of image that Jesus seems to prefer the most: horticultural ones. Both the mysterious natural lives of plants and the human cultivation of plants provide an endless – maybe even tiresome – bounty of symbols for the kind of community Jesus wants. But why? What’s so great about being like a plant? Why should we be like branches on a vine? Doesn’t that diminish the greatest things about being a human being?
So far, we have explored a few different rich images for Piecing It Back Together, our theme for this Easter season. We have contemplated Lego, and how destruction and letting the rubble sit can lead to greater creativity. We have explored the Japanese art of kintsugi and the beauty of visible scars left from where we have been broken apart. We wondered about the experience of those whispers that nudge our choices and how these fragmented experiences might be the pieces that add up to a whole life. I am so thankful not only for Kathryn’s and Max’s sermons, but also for the wise and deep conversations we have shared in the Preacher Talkbacks afterward. Let’s keep the work going!
This Sunday, we turn to the kind of image that Jesus seems to prefer the most: horticultural ones. Both the mysterious natural lives of plants and the human cultivation of plants provide an endless – maybe even tiresome – bounty of symbols for the kind of community Jesus wants. But why? What’s so great about being like a plant? Why should we be like branches on a vine? Doesn’t that diminish the greatest things about being a human being?
Apr 28, 2024 |
Fifth Sunday of Easter
| Max Smith
Fifth Sunday of Easter
Sometimes it’s easy when reading scripture – especially the book of Acts – to assume that those individuals chosen specifically by God were radically different from us. That they had more spiritual grit, or were somehow more spiritually vigorous than we are because they had just experienced Jesus as present, alive, risen – and therefore were fueled by that first-hand knowledge. Yet they were all just people with the same reticence and fears and busy lives as we have. They too had to procure food, clothing, and shelter every day, just as we do. They too had serious family obligations.
God not only whispers to the saints and to the spiritual warriors, but also to human beings — all of whom lose their car keys, forget birthdays, get tired and grumpy.
God whispers to us all. Yet, God does not always whisper ‘go for it’, or ‘say yes’. Sometimes God nudges us to ‘say NO.’
Let’s consider this week whether the Spirit is nudging you to say yes or no.
God not only whispers to the saints and to the spiritual warriors, but also to human beings — all of whom lose their car keys, forget birthdays, get tired and grumpy.
God whispers to us all. Yet, God does not always whisper ‘go for it’, or ‘say yes’. Sometimes God nudges us to ‘say NO.’
Let’s consider this week whether the Spirit is nudging you to say yes or no.
