SERMONS
Don't Lose Your Head
We are called to speak truth to power. Amos proclaims that God will judge Israel for its mistreatment of the poor. And like most prophets, Amos becomes a threat to the powers that be. One writer puts it this way: “The truth will set you free, but first it will shatter the safe, sweet way you live.”
What is calling you?
What is calling you? What is your purpose on this earth? How will you grow into your authentic self while finding joy in service to the needs of others?
When life lays you low
When life lays you low, sometimes you will do anything. To get well. To make things better. To work things out.
Weather the storm together
Jesus said, “let’s go across to the other side” and the followers of Jesus took him in the boat “just as he was”. No preparations. He was teaching the crowds and then he just got into a boat and sailed off. Imagine if right now I said “I want to go to Michigan.” and I just left church, went straight to the lake and got into a boat? Where would I go when I get there? I don’t even know how to sail! What if something happens along the way? I don’t know the tide patterns or what the weather will be like… What a dangerous thing to decide to do on a whim!
The reign of God is like . . .
We’re invited to look at the ordinary and see the extraordinary, to be open to the mystery of God’s work in this garden, and to see the unexpected gifts in our midst that are signs of God’s presence among us now. We are encouraged to reimagine what is beautiful and ask, where do we see the sacred? Where do we see God’s presence in our daily, ordinary, sometimes boring, maybe even complicated lives?
What are you resisting?
You Pharisee. I bet you’d resist being called that word. It’s downright derogatory. It’s as bad as being called a ___. I’ll stop!
A Pharisee is judgmental, hypocritical, self-righteous, hyper-legalistic, right? It’s a slippery slope, though. That’s not far from labeling an entire religion as Pharisaic.
Puns and Pondering the Trinity
God is always more. Life is always more. And we are always more. More than we can imagine.
It’s another word play, really: one in three, three in one. A God of relationship. Interdependence. Interweaving. A divine dance, as early Christians thought of the trinity.
A Language of Love
Do you speak more than one language? I wish I did, but I don’t. Not that I haven’t tried. In 7th-8th grade, I took German as my required language course. I still have the construction paper and photo-heavy report I did on Miene Familie, but sadly, I do not recall how to speak any of it. I’ve taken Intro to Spanish classes 5 different times, but, “Hola mi amiga” is about as far as I get in a conversation.
Above Earth's Lamentation
There’s a hymn I’m sure many of you know: “My life flows on in endless song / above earth’s lamentation. / I catch the sweet though far-off hymn / that hails a new creation.” I love this hymn. It’s one of my favorites.
But it landed a little differently one Sunday morning last October. It was homecoming weekend at my alma mater, Carthage College, and after the usual homecoming Eucharist, there was a memorial for Pastor Kara, the beloved campus pastor who at age 52 had died of cancer several months prior.
150th Anniversary of the Congregation - Bishop Yehiel Curry
The view from the enclosed balcony was breathtaking. Boats quietly traversed through the green waters where the Pacific Ocean meets the sea of Cortez. It was about 80 degrees, the sun was shining, and there were no clouds visible. On this day, I was about to do something I had never done before.
The Life Laid Down
I’m moved by the faith and determination of our Holy Trinity ancestors. Many people today have lost faith in the church as an institution. Churches are closing and many are on life support. Yet our forebears laid down their lives—gave their all—for the generations who would follow, including us.
The main point of First John is a line in today’s reading. “Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.” You may have all the goods the world offers, but God abides in those who lay down their lives for another, especially those in need. Especially those most vulnerable. Especially those marginalized.
Do you believe in ghosts?
Do you believe in ghosts? Have you ever had an experience with ghosts? Are you afraid of ghosts?
Healing in Hope
Maybe Thomas needed to touch Jesus’ wounds to know that those wounds can be healed — or to know that new life can still grow even in a body scarred by trauma.
What can you believe anymore?
What would Easter mean if it wasn’t just something you believe in your mind? It would be encountering God as mystery. It would be opening your hearts to something beyond yourselves. It would be letting the blossoming buds and flowers be your spiritual guides.
If you are bewildered by trying to make sense of these times and what is has to do with God. If you struggle with your faith and what you believe, there is a place for you here in this community. Together, we explore the questions of faith. We experience the resurrection through community, through acts of justice, through music and art and beauty.
Holy Disruption
What will it take to get our attention? What will it take to break through our cynicism, our apathy, our pride?
Lent is trying to do its work on us. We’re sailing through life. Attending to our agenda. Blocking out the news that troubles us. The violence on the South Side that seems unending. The lives lost in the wars in Ukraine and Gaza and the escalating humanitarian crisis. Turning away from the unhoused, the migrants, the refugees in our city, on our streets, in our neighborhood.
Lent in its starkness, simplicity, and deep honesty calls out: stop. Confess your sin. Review the Ten Commandments. You have not loved God with all your heart, soul and strength. You have not loved your neighbor as yourself. Lent disrupts our safe and tidy ways of thinking, the routines that become blinders.
What happened to you?
In a large city like Chicago, we are always passing people. In lines. In queues. On sidewalks. In stores. On the bus. On the el. Even on the way to communion.
Much of the time there is not eye contact. To look deeply at someone may freak them out. Or be misinterpreted as flirtation. But don’ t you wonder sometimes what everyone is carrying in their hearts? What stories? What pain and suffering? What trauma their bodies may be holding?
What we do with our pain?
47 Seconds
Lent is a season to sharpen our focus. But that’s why it is so hard. Remember the 47 seconds? We have a hard time concentrating these days. Even if we pray, meditate, or practice yoga and attend to our breathing, our minds wander.
Mortality as Gift
Perhaps that is why I and many others love this day. It is the most honest, the most human day in our liturgical year. We are mortal. We are finite. We will die. And grief will hurt.
It is the price of love. It is the sting of being human. It is what makes life precious.
Most of the time we live in denial. Not today, we think to ourselves. We block out the truth of our mortality with gadgets. Or being busy. Or living as if there are endless tomorrows.
Halfway
Yes, we are changed by the transforming love and power of God who meets us daily in the valley of our lives, not just the mountaintop experiences. Mountains are where we get our inspiration. Valleys are where we live and serve.
As we celebrate 150 years of ministry this year we take stock of what we’ve done and ask one another who we can be–in this community, in the neighborhoods of Lakeview and the South Loop, and wherever we live. We are transformed when we identify in ourselves, and for each how our passions, energy, and gifts are being called to meet the world’s needs. We are transformed when we challenge one another to use our gifts, money, and resources to heal a hurting world that is broken by poverty, racism, war.
After the Light Fades
Gentle rainfall at just the right moment, a pleasant or surprisingly deep conversation with a stranger, hearing or reading exactly the words you need to hear on a hard day, or simply a peaceful silence. These quiet, gentle reminders that Jesus is here walking with us can often mean just as much as any mountaintop moment could.