Sermons (Page 109)
Twenty Fifth Sunday After Pentecost
Sometimes, I think we know these things happen around us, we can see that brokenness exists, but we also find ourselves saying, “That’s just the way it is.” “The system isn’t perfect, but what’s the alternative….?”
All Saints Sunday
I love this Sunday. It might seem a strange thing to suggest that this day — All Saints Sunday — is one of my favorite holy days on the liturgical calendar. One of two days that confronts our human mortality and the inevitability of death head-on. First, there’s Ash Wednesday, where we are honest about our human condition, our sin, our brokenness, our frailty — marking our foreheads with ashes and proclaiming that we are dust. Today, there’s All Saints, where we remember the saints of the church and the saints of our own lives, particularly those who have died in the past year. We read their names out loud, we light candles, we ring bells. Often, we even bring photographs of departed loved ones and set them alongside icons of saints as a sort of altar of remembrance.
This year, I remember two saints of the church, who have long since died, but whose lives and memory have resurfaced in recent days…
Homecoming/Reformation Sunday
In today’s gospel reading, those whom Jesus spoke to in the temple were quickly offended and responded much like an entitled child. They said, “Do you know who you’re talking to? We are Abraham’s children, and we were never slaves.” But, Jesus knows that this response is from the book of “alternative facts.” The truth is that Abraham’s children were enslaved a number of times. The most well-known time was by the Egyptians. Their freedom came from God after Moses led the exodus, which included plagues, the Passover, and a pillar fire. It is the central story of Judaism, and so, it’s a little odd that those gathered in the temple weren’t aware. And, Jesus could have gone on to mention their long history of being ruled by the Assyrians, Babylonians, and Persians. He could’ve pointed to their current occupation by Rome. But, Jesus knew that sometimes truth is suppressed, ignored, or forgotten…