Tag Archives: love

On Redefining Community…

06 Wednesday May 2026

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Photo credit: https://www.army.mil/article/164948/trash_or_treasure_yard_sale_source_of_savings_income_for_soldiers_families

This past weekend, our church held a yard sale.  I was so impressed by our leaders and volunteers, and was excited to see steady traffic at the sale.  I know our parishioners were happy to extend the life of their once beloved items, and shoppers were happy to find items that may become useful to them or their families.  All in all, it was a great event!

As I watched the constant stream of shoppers, I was struck by a contradiction.  You see, the town I live in is relatively small.  Most people share one or two degrees of separation.  Either you know most people, you know someone in common, you’ve casually crossed paths, or you’ve heard of them.  But the vast majority of our shoppers this weekend were unknown to me.  They were a diverse group of people, representing diverse stages of life.  Some brought children and grandchildren, some came with a loved one, and some shopped solo.  Some seemed curious about what they might find, while others seemed like yard sale veterans who knew how to discern value.  But as someone who believes themselves to be fairly connected in the community, I was surprised by how many strangers I met that day.

The experience got me wondering:  how can someone (like a pastor) who is constantly meeting new people in a small-ish town still have a sizeable set of people they do not know?  How often do we assume success (if, say, our goal is to get to know our community well and share Christ’s love widely) when in fact our success is superficial at best?  Has our definition of “wider community” been narrowed to “strangers who are similar to me”? 

I wonder if our invitation is not to sit in the comfort of thinking we know our community, and instead to stretch how we engage our community.  Maybe we need to shop occasionally in places we do not normally shop.  Maybe we need drive in parts of town we do not normally drive.  Maybe we need exchange our normal polite nods for actual words of conversation and connection.  I do not know what the first step is for you, but I look forward to hearing what you choose and where you are having encounters with God in the process.

On the Blessing and Curse of Church…

15 Wednesday Apr 2026

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Photo credit: https://www.guitarhabits.com/how-to-play-guitar-with-a-band-or-group/

I was listening to a podcast recently where a couple of singer-songwriters were being interviewed.  When talking about the creative process of bringing together artists to create music, one musician described the experience as, “something really communal and almost like church, but for people that want to come together in a way that feels inclusive and safe for all.”[i] 

I understood what the artist was saying, completely.  The church for so many people has been a place of hurt – whether due to an experience around someone’s sexual orientation or gender expression, whether due to a divorce (either personally or watching the church handle the divorce of one’s parents), whether with the way hard conversations were had – with a sense of rigidity and judgment or with an openness to wonder and question.  I know the church has been a place of hurt because so many people have talked to me as a priest about their own resistance to Church because of that hurt.

But despite all my understanding and knowledge about how many times the Church has been the source of curse instead of blessing, the throw-away comparison of the music community this artist had experienced to the experience of Church hit like a gut punch.  Her qualification of Church not being a place that feels safe and inclusive for all hurt my soul so much that I literally felt the wind being knocked out of me. 

Perhaps the comment hurt so much because whereas this singer-songwriter found the Church lacking and found what Church is supposed to be somewhere else, I have spent a lifetime trying to find churches that strive to actually be what Church is supposed to be like – and certainly as a priest, I have tried to shape communities into being that kind of community.  I love being in a place that despite being pretty diverse politically and theologically, can happily celebrate the renewal of vows by a lesbian couple who has found a sense of home and purpose there; where former members of other denominations find a sense of welcome and acceptance that their former church withheld; a church who seeks out the liturgical leadership of young people, whether transgendered, neurodivergent, or just young, because they are some of our best leaders; where retired members show up at the sporting events, dance recitals, or theater performances of younger members; where parishioners with protest pins on their lapels kneel next to parishioners with bumper stickers of opposing viewpoints. 

I never want to minimize the hurt or victimization that people have experienced by the hand of the Church.  And even if I personally did not commit a heinous act of hatred, judgment, or exclusion, I know part of my work is atoning for the sin of the Church universal.  My prayer this week is that those who have only experienced exclusion and a lack of safety in churches might find their way to churches who strive to live another way – to live the love of Jesus fully and authentically.  And it is my prayer that for those of us striving to live in that other way that we remain humble about whether we have actually achieved that safety and inclusivity and keep remembering not the way of church politics, but the way of Jesus. 

[i] Maren Morris, “Brandi Carlile:  Good Hang with Amy Poehler,” March 31, 2026, as found at https://podcasts.musixmatch.com/podcast/good-hang-with-amy-poehler-01jktbqakmf0anjvx2tz394fjv/episode/brandi-carlile-01kn1tcfzgdg73vb0jhswns3xs on April 15, 2026

Sermon – John 13.1-17, 31b-35, MT, YA, April 2, 2026

15 Wednesday Apr 2026

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In 1984, the gay community in London was seeing a lot of violence and oppression by not only the police, but also the community.  While busy with their own activism, one gay activist caught wind of the Coal Miners who were striking in Wales.  Upon watching the violence of the police against the strikers, the activist realized the miners’ suffering was not unlike his own, and that of the gay community.  And so, in an act of solidarity and love, he organized his gay community to raise funds to support the families of the striking miners.

But not everyone was on board.  You see, the miners worked in small towns in which many members of the gay community had once lived.  In those small communities, they had been bullied, taunted, and beaten.  And now someone was asking them to come to their aid.  Many in the gay community could not turn the other cheek.  Why should they return hatred with love?  And as the gay activists soon learned, their help would not be readily received.  Why should the gay community risk further rejection, shame, and violence to support an oppressed people who refused to see their commonality?

Jesus shares a meal with his disciples as he has done on so many occasions.  Only on this night, he is among friend and foe.  He knows Judas is about to betray him.  He knows that Judas is about to put into motion a series of actions that cannot be stopped, that will lead to pain and suffering, and ultimately death.  Looking into Judas’ eyes, Jesus must have felt a betrayal so deep that he had to resist hatred as a human response.  “How could you?” would be an easy question for Jesus to ask in this intimate moment.

But Jesus does not do that.  He does not challenge Judas, or reprimand, or even expose Judas in front of the others directly.  No, he takes off his outer robe, takes a bowl and a pitcher of water, and he washes the feet of everyone in that room – not just the feet of those whom he loves – which would have been a poignantly intimate moment anyway.  But as he makes his way down the table, he shifts his bowl under the dusty feet of Judas; feet as dirty as the rest of them.  He takes the feet of this betrayer of his trust and confidence, and he manages to love Judas as deeply as everyone else.  Tenderly, lovingly, he washes the feet of the enemy of the worst kind – an enemy who was once a friend.  Love in the face of betrayal.

This year, Jesus’ tenderness with Judas has been haunting me.  I do not know about you, but the last thing I want to do is tenderly, lovingly care for my enemy.  Society teaches me to have a strong defense, to protect myself, and even to avoid conflict.  The norm is not to kneel down before a betrayer of trust, to make oneself subservient, and lovingly treat someone who acts so hatefully.  Only a fool makes themselves vulnerable before the enemy.  And yet, that is what Jesus does.  That is how Jesus shows the depths of his love.  Jesus does not use his power to thwart the enemy.  He restrains his power to bring the enemy in – always with the offering of love that can transform any heart.

Tonight, we will engage in the tradition of washing others’ feet.  Many of us get caught up the squeamishness of feet and the vulnerability such intimacy involves.  But something much bigger happens in foot washing than letting go of self-consciousness.  In foot washing we enter into the love of Christ:  washing the feet of those we know well and love; washing the feet of those we know only superficially; washing the feet of those who seem to have their lives totally together and those who we know are suffering; washing the feet of someone who has indeed offended you, and washing the feet of someone with whom you wish to reconcile.

But what we do literally here, we take out figuratively into the world.  Washing the feet of someone you know, or even someone you do not know well in church is one thing.  Washing the feet of the people who are not here is another thing entirely.  Though Jesus washed his disciples’ feet, the inclusion of Judas suggests that loving one another cannot be limited to the community of believers.[i]  All we have to do is imagine an actual enemy, someone who has betrayed our trust or offended our values, someone who oppresses the oppressed, someone who embraces hatred and division, and then we know how hard what Jesus does is tonight.  Tonight, some powerful feelings are set loose:  sorrow, loss, regret, even fear; but also, some powerful feelings are set loose by Jesus:  commitment, conviction, and determination.  God lays aside everything tonight.[ii]  Enter into Christ’s love tonight through the example he sets for us.  Know that God will use the power of this act to change your heart.

A year after that bold move by the gay community in London in the 1980s, much had happened.  Horrible things were said, mean things were done, violence erupted, commitments were betrayed, and help was rejected.  But a year later, even after ultimately losing their cause, the mineworkers did something out of character.  Chapter after chapter of mineworkers loaded onto buses, came to London, and marched for gay rights with their new siblings.  God’s love has tremendous power.  Even if that love cannot transform the heart of a Judas, the witness of that love slowly breaks through and transforms communities.  Join us tonight as we start locally.  Know that God will use your small action here to do bigger work out in the world!  Amen.

[i] Susan E. Hylen, “Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. A, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 275.

[ii] William F. Brosend, “Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. A, Vol. 2 (Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 276.

Sermon – Genesis 12.1-4a, L2, YA, March 1, 2026

15 Wednesday Apr 2026

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We’ve been talking a lot about college in our house.  I recalled my own experience of that first year of college with my older daughter recently.  I was so ready to leave home and start my “adult” life, I was beyond thrilled to be able see Duke basketball games in person, I was eager to start my studies so that I could take on that big job, and I knew I would have a ton of fun.  As I packed my bags, I felt like the world was full of promise and hope and I just knew I was going to have an awesome college career.  In many ways, my college experience was one of the best experiences of my life – one where I learned so much more than I expected, I made lifelong friends, I experienced my first sense of call to ministry, and I did in fact enjoy many a basketball game.  But that first year of college was nothing like the picture looking back now.  I had an awful freshman roommate experience, I struggled with the rigor of classes at first, I had a hard time finding a group of friends I really liked, there were multiple things I either tried out for our wanted to be invited into that I was not, and there were times that I wondered what in the world I was doing there.

As I listened to our Old Testament lesson today, I wondered how much Abram felt the same way about his own journey.  The very short passage from Genesis today says, “The Lord said to Abram, ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.  I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.  I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.’”  At first glance, Abram’s invitation sounds awesome!  He is invited on a journey with God and he is promised God will bless him, will give him plenteous offspring and power, and he will essentially be famous.  Who wouldn’t want to pack up their earthly belongings and hit the road with that kind of invitation?  The upcoming journey sounds like one full of promise, hope, and abundant joy.

Of course, there are a few slight indicators of how hard this journey might actually be.  First God tells Abram to leave his country, his kindred, and his father’s house – all without a map of where they will be going.  Scholar Carol Newsome reminds us, “In traditional societies the kin group is the source of identity, economic benefit, security, and protection.  To leave such a fundamental social network is to put a great deal at risk.”[i]  And then there is the text we do not read today.  In the verses immediately preceding this text, we are told that Abram’s father has just died.  We all know what the death of a parent can do to a person, and can at least imagine the intense grief Abram is working under when he says yes to God.  And the text immediately after where we stop tells us that Abram is about 75 years old at this point.  So, a man well beyond the prime of life, who is freshly experiencing grief, who has probably long since lost hope of bearing any children should be able to guess that this journey will not be all roses and rainbows.

In fact, we know that the journey is not as hope-filled as our lesson makes the journey out to be today.  This man whom God says will be blessed and be great hits all kinds of bumps along the way.  If you remember, Abram passes off his wife as his sister several times to avoid danger to himself.  When he still does not have any offspring, Sarai eventually convinces him to sleep with her handmaiden Hagar.  Though Hagar bears him a son, Abram eventually casts Hagar and Ishmael out into the wilderness when his wife Sarai gets jealous.  And of course, we cannot forget that Abram is also forced to take his one son by Sarai, Isaac, up on a mountain to be sacrificed – believing all along that God intends for Abram to kill his only heir.  Sounds like a real journey of blessing, right?

That is the funny thing about journeys.  We are not often promised that our journeys will be blessed.  But even when we hope that they will be blessed, the blessing never comes immediately and is often masked by long intervals of pain and suffering.  We have lived that life here at Hickory Neck.  Almost three hundred years ago, people from Williamsburg were told, “Go.  Go from the conveniences of town and settle in a rural, farmland that I will show you.  I will make of you a great church, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.”  At least, that’s how our histories of Hickory Neck read.  We too were a people of hope and expectation – at least until a certain war broke out and our side lost.  The building had its own adventure with students, residents, and injured soldiers.  And then, over 100 years ago, the dream emerged again.  We took a stab at the dream:  first with a small group of families, and then more and more friends, and slowly strangers gathering.  We had lots of clergy – some staying longer than others – some vicars, some rectors, some associates, and deacons.  We built buildings, bought more land.  We experienced church growth and church decline, budget surpluses and budget deficits.  We welcomed new ministries, a school, and joined the digital world.  When God said, “Go,” who would have ever guessed the journey would play out the way the journey has.

Sometimes our Lenten journeys have that same feel.  We fill ourselves with pancakes, and then the next day, kneel with resolve to take on some discipline.  We look forward to the blessings of Lent – the intimacy with God the journey will bring, the learning will we do, the peace we will gain, or even the couple of pounds we might lose.  And when we hear a story like the Old Testament lesson today, we feel pumped up and ready for an exciting journey.  We may even imagine God making similar promises to us:  You will be blessed in this Lenten journey.  And yet, if we think back to any Lent in the past, we might remember how difficult our discipline became by week four or five.  We might remember how that cool discipline we chose did not really turn out to be as great as we imagined.  And depending on how stable we were at the time, that sense of failure could have brought more of a sense of curse than blessing.

How do we know that blessing awaits and what do we do in the meantime?  What do we do when those days come – because they will – when we feel discouraged and lose that sense of promise and hope that God gives today?  If we look to Abram, we see that our only option is to go – to keep putting one foot in front of the other.  The lesson today says, “So Abram went, as the Lord had told him.”  The journey for Abram is risky, full of potholes, and ultimately full of some wild twists that might have turned Abram back at any point.  And yet, “Abram went.”  We are lucky enough to know that Abram becomes Abraham – the man that would eventually become a father of entire people – in fact of several faith traditions.  But Abraham never got to see the fullness of that blessing.  His life was more one of blessing in hindsight, not really an everyday blessing-fest.

In some ways, that is all we can do too.  God constantly calls us into a journey – whether during Lent or in whole phases of life.  God promises to bless us and love us along the way.  But we know the journey will be hard at times, and leave us feeling discouraged.  And when that happens, all we can do is put one foot in front of the other, and keep on going.  Of course, we have each other along the way, much like Abram had Lot.  In fact, the last words of today’s lesson are, “and Lot went with him.”  So, whether you are in that blessed state of bliss, or you are already struggling in your steps, God still tells you to go.  Our response is difficult, intimidating, and profound, but also extremely simple.  We go, knowing the journey will be blessed.  We go, knowing friends will journey with us.  We go, knowing God is with us.  We go.  Amen.

[i] Carol A. Newsom, “Exegetical Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Yr. A., Vol. 2 (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2010), 53.

Sermon – Jonah 3.1-10, Ecumenical Lenten Worship Series, February 25, 2026

15 Wednesday Apr 2026

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This sermon was delivered at Mt. Vernon United Methodist Church, as part of an ecumenical pulpit exchange that happens with six other churches during in Lent in our county.

On this Wednesday in the first week of Lent, we get a portion of the Jonah story.  Before we jump into the specific set of verses appointed for today, we need to back up and recount the whole of the Jonah narrative so we can hear more clearly what God is trying to say to us tonight.  If you recall, Jonah’s story starts with a call.  God tells Jonah to go to Ninevah to proclaim judgment on their wicked behavior.  Now, “Nineveh was the capital of Assyria, the nation that destroyed the northern kingdom of Israel and held the southern kingdom of Judah as a vassal for almost one hundred years.  Assyria was more than an enemy; [Assyria] was a brutal occupying force that forever changed Israel’s fortunes.  Jonah is called out by God to go and prophesy to the enemy.”[i]

Understandably, instead of heading straight to Ninevah, Jonah goes in the exact opposite direction – hopping on a boat to sail away from the very scary and dangerous job God has given Jonah.  The next part you probably remember from Sunday School:  a storm comes up, the crew on the boat try to survive, Jonah is thrown overboard as a sacrifice and then swallowed by a very large fish, only to be spit out, and then told by God to get up and go do what God told Jonah to do the first time.  That’s where we pick up in tonight’s reading.

This time Jonah obeys – sort of.  He half-heartedly announces judgment on Nineveh.  The words we hear are “Forty days more, and Nineveh will be overthrown!”  In Hebrew, Jonah’s words are just a five-word sermon.[ii]  Despite his half-hearted five-word sermon, Nineveh springs into almost comedic action.  The people proclaim a fast and put on sackcloth.  The king ups the ante and sits in ashes and tells the people to stop all violence and even put sackcloth on their animals, hoping maybe, just maybe, God will relent and not punish them.  A great, all-powerful, brutal people humbly repent.  We are told God changes God’s mind based on their repentance and does not punish them. 

Now, this is where Jonah’s story gets interesting.  We didn’t hear this part tonight, but Jonah does not experience relief, or justification, or even pride, at making something great happen.  No, Jonah is angry.  Old Testament professor Beth Tanner tells us, “The NRSV plays down [Jonah’s] anger with the words ‘this was very displeasing to Jonah and he became angry’ (4:1).  The Hebrew reads roughly, ‘it was evil to Jonah, a great evil, and his anger burned.’  The ‘it’ of Jonah’s anger is the heart of the matter.  He tells God why he ran, ‘for I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and ready to relent from punishing’ (4:2).  Jonah is angry at God for the very attributes that Israel has always depended on for [Israel’s] own salvation (Exodus 34:6-7)!  God speaks to Jonah, trying to explain, but the book ends without resolution and Jonah goes away mad.”[iii]

The funny thing about Jonah’s story is that Jonah’s story, if we’re paying attention, hits us right in our gut.  You see, we believe that God is gracious, merciful, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing.  In fact, we bet our lives on God’s nature.  We spend forty days repenting of our sinfulness, attempting to amend our ways, seeking and expecting God’s profound forgiveness.  We only engage in this season of self-reflection and self-denial because we know God’s grace and mercy is for us, waiting outside an empty tomb.  But here’s where Jonah’s gut-punch comes from:  we are not always ready for God’s grace to be as available to everyone else as God’s grace is available to us. 

Now before you protest against this guest preacher, saying, “Hey now!  I’m not like Jonah!” I want you to take a moment.  I want you to resist your defenses going up and think of the person in your life who is hard to love.  That person may be a neighbor, or that black sheep in your family, or that friend or lover you cut off years ago.  That person might in a political office despite your vote to the contrary.  That person or group of people, like Nineveh, might be known for oppression and degradation that you cannot abide.  Scholar Tanner says, “My father always told me that if I did not believe that God would save the most foul of humans, then I did not really believe in God’s power to save my own soul.”[iv]  If I do not believe that God would save the most foul of humans, then I do not really believe in God’s power to save my own soul.

That, my friends, is why Jonah goes out into the wilderness in a huff and is angry at God for being God.  Because the bounds of God’s grace, mercy, and steadfast love are endless.  And even if we do not feel like our neighbor deserves that grace, mercy, and steadfast love, God knows a repentant heart much more deeply than we, and our God can change God’s mind. 

In this season of Lent, you are likely going to confess some grievous sins.  In this season of Lent, you are likely going to try to be more faithful – to walk more fully in the light of Christ.  In this season of Lent, you are likely going to come to the cross broken, having just been spit out of the belly of a very large fish, feeling defeated.  And God is going to love you.  God’s grace and mercy are going to envelope you.  God’s anger will be slow enough to not boil over that you will not be burned. 

And.  And, because that is the nature of our God, our invitation tonight is to make room for more people to be welcomed into that bosom of God’s embrace.  That does not mean you cannot speak truth to power.  Jonah certainly did.  But the judgment piece is not ours.  In fact, our speaking truth to power is rooted in the knowledge that there is room for all.  God’s mercy, grace, and steadfast love is for you.  And although you or I may not like sharing that mercy, grace, and steadfast love with certain individuals, the fact that God does makes God’s mercy, grace, and steadfast love even greater, even sweeter, even more humbling.  There is room in God’s embrace – even for someone like us!  Amen.

[i] Beth L. Tanner, “Commentary on Jonah 3:1-5, 10,” January 25, 2009, as found at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-after-epiphany-2/commentary-on-jonah-31-5-10-2 on February 24, 2026.

[ii] Kathryn M. Schifferdecker, “Commentary on Jonah 3:1-5, 10,” January 25, 2015, as found at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-after-epiphany-2/commentary-on-jonah-31-5-10-3, on February 24, 2026.

[iii] Tanner.

[iv] Tanner.

On Politics, Football, and Love…

11 Wednesday Feb 2026

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Photo credit: https://www.harpersbazaar.com/celebrity/latest/g70287539/bad-bunny-hidden-messages-super-bowl-halftime-performance/

I confess that I did not know much about Bad Bunny when he was announced as this year’s Super Bowl Halftime Show artist.  I had seen clips of him guest starring on sketch shows and talk shows, but knew very little beyond that.  I eventually learned that he sings almost exclusively in Spanish, and that lots of folks were upset by the fact that they, as non-Spanish speakers, would not be able to understand the lyrics.  I did not really share that upsettedness.  Even with minimal Spanish myself, I was more curious about how 1) someone who sings exclusively in Spanish could be such a global success, and 2) what he would do with the global stage the Super Bowl provides.

The minute the show started, I was transported.  I have never traveled to Puerto Rico, but I have been to the Dominican Republic several times with church mission trips, and the sugar cane fields, the guys playing dominoes, and the rhythms of dance were immediately familiar.  As the show unfolded, I found not an artist defending his right to be performing at the Super Bowl, but instead, an artist joyfully welcoming everyone into his culture – and as he would likely say, into our culture.  Toward the end of the show, a billboard in the stadium displayed the words, “The only thing more powerful than hate is love.”  And suddenly, I realized Bad Bunny, Benito as he is called by those who know him, took us all to Church. 

You see, in my “purple” congregation, I always tell folks I don’t preach politics – I preach Jesus.  On Super Bowl night, Benito didn’t preach politics – he preached love.  And for those who were frustrated about language, or, more likely, frustrated that a Spanish-speaking singer reminded them of the political strife that the enforcement of immigration regulations has unleashed in our country, I found myself remembering that love, especially Jesus’ command to love, is always political when embraced wholeheartedly.  You cannot commit to love of neighbor without encountering neighbors you would rather not love.  And so, when a worldwide superstar holds up a football with the words, “Together we are America,” he is also holding up a mirror with the question to at least followers of Jesus, “Are you loving your neighbor?”

Most of us do not have a worldwide stage to be agents of Christ’s love.  Very few of us have pulpits from which to preach God’s love.  But all of us, every single day, have the ability and the commission from Jesus to love.  Love God, love self, love neighbor.  Love is hard work – hatred is so much easier.  But being faithful has never been about the easy way.  Being faithful has always meant being a beloved child of God who is then required to gift that love to others.  Sometimes it takes a Spanish-speaking superstar, sometimes it takes a wise grandmother, sometimes it takes an innocent child – but the message is always the same.  We are called to love, and love is so much bigger than we will ever feel comfortable with; and, we do it anyway.  Thank you, Benito, for reminding us whose we are.

On Sharing the Love…

04 Wednesday Feb 2026

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Photo credit: https://www.thebearandthefox.com/easy-peasy-valentine-garland/

With Valentine’s Day approaching, my daughter’s dance studio has welcomed back their “Spread the Love” month.  Paper hearts are cut out and students are invited to write something kind about another student and paste them around the studio.  It sounds very simple, but I loved watching the impact last year.  I was impressed by how eager kids were to write something kind about one of their peers.  But even more noteworthy was watching the kids read something kind about themselves.  As humans, we are often reticent to celebrate our own gifts and talents; and culturally, we do not regularly make time to compliment the giftedness we see in others.  The simple invitation to celebrate each other becomes a profound experience. 

Personally, I have never loved Valentine’s Day, as its focus on romantic love and paired couples creates an environment for uncoupled folks to feel inadequate, lonely, or less than.  The reframing of a day about love like the one at our dance studio reminds me of the kind of love that Jesus asks us to show everyday – not just on Valentine’s Day.  By focusing on spreading love and kindness, the entire community shifts and benefits as both givers and receivers of love.  It is a beautiful expression of the holiest of activities.

So this month, I invite you to spread the love too.  You can certainly cut out some hearts if you like, but whether it’s a text, a phone call, a conversation, an email, or an old school “valentine,” I encourage you to look around at the people in your life – both those people you know and love, and those people who happen into your path.  Take a long look at them and then let them know what about them is special to you – what gifts, or kindnesses do they share with the world for which you are grateful?  Find your mode of communication and then start sharing the love.  I suspect you will find great joy in honoring others. And even if you do not receive similar “valentines” in return, the love will return to you ten-fold.

Feast of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., January 18, 2026

28 Wednesday Jan 2026

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Artwork by Nip Rogers, created for Learning for Justice.

The following sermon was delivered in multiple voices at Hickory Neck Episcopal Church in honor of the feast of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. The text is exclusively Dr. King’s, and consists of excerpts from Loving your Enemies, from a sermon delivered at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, Montgomery, Alabama, on November, 17 1957, and from Chapter Five of Strength to Love, © 1963 by Martin Luther King, Jr.

“Probably no admonition of Jesus has been more difficult to follow than the command to “love our enemies…”

“…I am certain that Jesus understood the difficulty inherent in the act of loving one’s enemy. He never joined the ranks of those who talk glibly about the easiness of the moral life. He realized that every genuine expression of love grows out of a consistent and total surrender to God…Our responsibility…is to discover the meaning of this command and seek passionately to live it out”

“…How do we love our enemies?

First, we must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. It is impossible even to begin the act of loving one’s enemies without the prior acceptance of the necessity, over and over again, of forgiving those who inflict evil and injury upon us. It is also necessary to realize that the forgiving act must always be initiated by the person who has been wronged…”

“…Forgiveness does not mean ignoring what has been done…It means, rather, that the evil act no longer remains as a barrier to the relationship…Certainly one can never forget, if that means erasing it totally from his mind. But…we forget in the sense that the evil deed is no longer a mental block impeding a new relationship…Forgiveness means reconciliation…The degree to which we are able to forgive determines the degree to which we are able to love our enemies.”

“Second, we must recognize that the evil deed of the enemy-neighbor…never quite expresses all that he is. An element of goodness may be found even in our worst enemy…This simply means that is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies…We recognize that…hate grows out of fear, pride, ignorance, prejudice, and misunderstanding, but in spite of this, we know God’s image is ineffably etched in (them).”

“Third, we must not seek to defeat or humiliate the enemy, but to win his friendship and understanding…Every word and deed must contribute to an understanding with the enemy and release those vast reservoirs of goodwill that have been blocked by impenetrable walls of  hate.”

“The meaning of love is not to be confused with some sentimental outpouring…In the Greek New Testament are three words for love.  The word eros is a sort of aesthetic or romantic love…philia, a reciprocal love and the intimate affection and friendship between friends. We love those whom we like, and we love because we are loved. The third word is agape, understanding and creative, redemptive goodwill for all…An overflowing love which seeks nothing in return…the love of God operating in the human heart…When Jesus bids us to love our enemies…he is speaking of agape, understanding and creative, redemptive goodwill for all…”

“Why should we love our enemies?

(First) …Returning hate for hate multiplies hate adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Hate multiplies hate, violence multiplies violence, and toughness multiplies toughness in a descending spiral of destruction. So when Jesus says ‘Love your enemies,’ he is setting forth a profound and ultimately inescapable admonition. Have we not come to such an impasse in the modern world that we must love our enemies—or else?”

“Another reason why we must love our enemies is that hate scars the soul and distorts the personality. Mindful that hate is an evil and dangerous force, we too often think of what is does to the hated…But there is another side which we must not overlook. Hate is just as injurious to the person who hates. Like an unchecked cancer, hate corrodes the personality and eats away its vital unity. Hate destroys…(the) sense of values and objectivity.  It causes (one) to describe the beautiful as ugly and the ugly as beautiful, and to confuse the true with the false and the false with the true.”

“A third reason why we should love our enemies is that love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend. We never get rid of an enemy by meeting hate with hate; we get rid of an enemy by getting rid of enmity. By its very nature, hate destroys and tears down; by its very nature, love creates and builds up. Love transforms with redemptive power.”

“…An even more basic reason why we are commanded to love is expressed explicitly in Jesus’ words, ‘Love your enemies that you may be children of your father which is in heaven.’ …We must love our enemies because only by loving them can we know God and experience the beauty of his holiness. Of course, this is not practical. Life is a matter of dog eat dog. Am I saying that  Jesus commands us to love those who hurt and oppress us? Do I sound like most preachers – idealistic and impractical? My friends, we have followed the so-called practical way for too long a time now, and it has led inexorably to deeper confusion and chaos. For the salvation of our nation and the salvation of humankind, we must follow another way. This is the only way to create the beloved community.

On Peace, Love, and Conduits…

14 Wednesday Jan 2026

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Photo credit: Ken Hicks, as found at https://www.facebook.com/groups/sagingnotaging/posts/25680765434890871/

This past Sunday a parishioner told me about how she had been following the Walk for Peace[i] movement – a 120-day 2,300-mile journey by Buddhist monks walking from Fort Worth, Texas to Washington, DC to raise awareness of peace, loving kindness, and compassion across America and the world.  The parishioner is hoping to see them as they pass a town near us.  I had not heard about the group, and have been fascinated to learn about their journey.  They are not asking for money, do not offer selfies, and ask that no political statements accompany their journey.

Meanwhile, in response to the death of Minneapolis resident Renee Good, the Episcopal Church in Minnesota held an online prayer vigil last night open to the entire country to lament violent immigration enforcement in the Twin Cities area.  Over 3,400 people joined the prayers online, as those gathered offered their fatigue, anger, and heartbrokenness to God.  The bishop in that diocese invited those gathered to “turn the world upside down by mobilizing for love.”[ii]

As I have been thinking about the tumult of theses days and the tensions in our country, I have often felt helpless – as though the division is so deeply embedded and hardening between us that there is little to effect substantive change.  But as I thought about these two groups – simply walking without taking sides, or responding to division with prayer and love – I found myself wondering if I might more intentionally lean into my own faith tradition’s gifts too.

As I was reading about the monks, I saw that the only gift they “allow” in their walk is the gift of flowers.  Later I learned that they receive these flowers as gifts, but then they gift those flowers to people along their walk.  Conceivably, those flowers could be changing hands with people who do not agree on political issues, but who can pass along flowers to one another in gestures of peace. 

This coming Sunday, our church will be honoring Martin Luther King, Jr.’s feast day.  This year, our clergy will be reading excerpts from one of his sermons.  As clergy, we have been amazed at how, decades later, King’s words still resonate powerfully with what feels like problems unique to our generation.  I wonder if his words can be a conduit like those flowers that might pass peace and understanding and grace and love to our community and beyond.  I invite you to consider what conduits might be in your path today, or what conduits you might offer to begin slow, steady change.

[i] https://www.facebook.com/walkforpeaceusa/

[ii] Shireen Korkzan, “Thousands join Episcopal Church vigil to lament violent immigration enforcement actions, unite in pursuing justice,” January 14, 2026, as found at https://episcopalnewsservice.org/2026/01/14/thousands-join-episcopal-church-vigil-to-lament-violent-immigration-enforcement-unite-in-pursuing-justice/

Sermon – Luke 2.1-20, CE, YA, December 24, 2025

07 Wednesday Jan 2026

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Ten Christmases ago – my very first Christmas at Hickory Neck – we gathered near midnight in the Historic Chapel, mesmerized by the flickering of candlelight and eager to experience our first Christmas together.  It started out as an idyllic night.  And then, right as I began my sermon, a car alarm went off.  Now I am a consummate professional, so I kept going.  But I noticed how, after the alarm kept beeping and beeping, one parishioner at a time snuck out of the church to ensure the beeping was not coming from their car.  I swear that beeping went on for 5 minutes before we found the right clicker to shut the noise down.  Recovering, we moved forward with the service, overcoming other minor hiccups as I figured out how to best celebrate in the beautiful space by candlelight.  And then, right as we proclaimed the dismissal, we heard the blaring roar of fire trucks right outside the church.  We all looked confused as there was not fire in the space where we were worshiping.  We later learned that one of the candles got a little too smokey and the fire station down the hill had been silently alerted.  We were able to send them back to the station, but the night was anything but a Silent Night at Hickory Neck.

I have always found the fact that we sing Silent Night on Christmas Eve to be a humorous contradiction.  Nothing about the night of Jesus’ birth was silent.  His parents entered Bethlehem amidst the chaos of the census, where they finally found space in an inn among the animals.  I do not know how much you have been around animals, but they are not particularly silent – even while sleeping.  Then there is the act of giving birth.  I know Mary is the Blessed Mother, but I do not know of any woman who is silent in childbirth – let alone a newborn who is silent after the trauma of entering the world.  And although the shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night might have been enjoying some relative quiet, those angels sure are not quiet.  I am pretty sure a multitude of the heavenly host praising God is really loud. 

So, what inspired the author of hymn Silent Night?  Well, we’ve cobbled together a bit about the formation of the hymn.  “Joseph Mohr worked as a country priest serving a small village in present-day Austria.  His father had abandoned the family prior to his birth, and Joseph relied on the encouragement and support of the local church for his education.  He was active in the choir, learned violin and guitar, and went on to seminary and full-time ministry.  While a parish priest, Joseph penned Silent Night and asked his friend, a local schoolmaster, to compose the melody for a Christmas Eve service.”[i]  Varying sources say he wrote the words while walking in the quiet snow-covered town, and that the night of Christmas Eve that year in 1818, the organ had broken, so the organist, Franz Gruber, figured out how to play the tune on the guitar.[ii]  There was something magical about the carol, though, because Joseph Mohr’s hymn spread around the world over time, being translated into over 300 languages.

But perhaps the most famous thing about the song happened almost 100 years later amid brutal trench war in World War I.  On December 24, 1914, “…as Christmas Eve night drew in, British soldiers watched in surprise as German troops began to place makeshift Christmas trees on the ridge of the German trenches.  Soon after enemy soldiers waved to each other and shouted Christmas greetings.  Then a few German soldiers came gingerly over the top of the trenches to retrieve their dead and wounded comrades from the battlefield.  British soldiers followed their example, until ‘No Man’s Land’ was cleared of the dead and dying.  Although the pause in fighting had brought a welcome sense of calm, both sides were still divided.  Then through the cold, starry night a German soldier began to sing ‘Stille Nacht,’ [or Silent Night].  What followed was both sides singing more well- known carols, some sung at the same time in both German and English.  Then soldiers ventured over the top of the trenches again, this time to exchange smiles, show photographs of loved ones, and even play football together.”[iii] 

As I have been thinking about the well-loved, seemingly universally healing and appealing carol of Silent Night, despite the obvious contrast in that actual, quite noisy night and the night described in the carol, I have begun to wonder what we mean by the word “silent.”  I wonder if instead of the absence of noise, we might mean a sense of hyperfocus.  When Mohr composed about that silent night, I wonder if he meant the silence that only comes with profound clarity where the world truly seems to stop as truth is revealed to you.  One can image how time seems to freeze, the distractions of crying children, or noisy uncles, or cranky pets suddenly mute, as profound truth makes sense for us.  On that snowy night in the World War I trenches, the profound truth was in the humanity of the formerly faceless enemy.  On that night in Bethlehem, the profound truth was that a Savior was born – not a generic savior but a savior born “to you,” the text tells the lowly shepherds.  On that night for that parish priest, with a broken organ on the biggest night of the Church year, the profound truth was “…not just a baby in a manger, but love’s pure light, …[where] we too can encounter God’s redeeming grace.”[iv]            

That is the church’s gift to you tonight too.  I cannot take away the noise of children (or adults who act like children), or the noise of anxiety and stress, or even the noise of seemingly unending political strife.  But the church can offer you the silence that comes from the truth of love’s pure light, radiant beams, and God’s redeeming grace.  Even if the noise only momentarily fades into nothing, in that silence the incarnate God whispers to you the only gift you need tonight – love’s pure light, radiant beams, and redeeming grace.  God gifts you with the grounding truth of this night, so that on all the other nights, all the other hours, all the other minutes, you have the silent night to help you brave the noise.  Amen.

[i] David Chavez, “Advent Devotional,” as found at https://www.cslewisinstitute.org/christmas-carol-silent-night/ on December 23, 2025.

[ii] “A Weary World Rejoices.  Silent Night: God’s Inadvertent Ways” St. Luke’s UMC, December 24, 2020, as found at chrome-extension://efaidnbmnnnibpcajpcglclefindmkaj/https://www.stlukesumc.com/GetFile.ashx?guid=f669184e-bb9b-4641-a7a9-e75da96a5d4a on December 23, 2025.

[iii] “Silent Night:  A Reflection,” as found at chrome-extension://efaidnbmnnnibpcajpcglclefindmkaj/https://missio.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2018/11/Silent-Night-a-reflection-notes.pdf on December 23, 2025.

[iv] Chavez.