Learning Humility
Learning Humility
by Adam Thomas
Our last couple of sermons have been about big topics, about how the life of faith compels us to confront injustice, violence, and falsehood. Today, I’m going to change gears and tell you a personal story. The story is about me embracing humility – not as a matter of course, but as a last resort. I’m sharing this story today for three reasons. First, the end of the Gospel reading about exalting and humbling one’s self got me thinking about true humility. Second, today is the two-year anniversary of the climactic moment of the story, so it seems like a good day to share it. And third, talking about mental health openly is the way to destigmatize it, especially for people like me, who think we can just muscle our way through mental health issues.
New Covenant
by Adam Thomas
This week we reflect on God’s promise through the Prophet Jeremiah of a new covenant—one not written on tablets of stone, but on our very hearts. Jeremiah spoke these words during Israel’s darkest hour, when exile and despair seemed certain. Yet even then, God promised renewal, a deeper intimacy than ever before. This sermon traces how this covenant unfolds through Scripture—from Abraham’s promise, to Moses’ law, to Jeremiah’s vision—and how it comes to fullness in Jesus Christ, God drawing near to dwell among us. The new covenant is not about rule-keeping but heart-living: allowing God’s presence to transform who we are from the inside out.
The Fabric of Faith
The Fabric of Faith
This week, we reflect on how God weaves our individual stories into a beautiful tapestry of faith and community. Sharing a bit of my own journey — times when I tried to keep my heart safe behind walls, and how love still found a way in, mending what was broken like the Japanese art of kintsugi.
We’ll also look at Lois and Eunice, the women who passed their faith on to Timothy, and how their story reminds us that faith is something we receive and pass along. Encouraging us all to remember those who nurtured our faith and to keep weaving ourselves into the fabric of God’s love — a community where healing, grace, and connection are at the heart of who we are.
The Field at Anathoth
The Field at Anathoth
When the world feels like it’s unraveling, Jeremiah shows us that hope is not wishful thinking but a practice—something we do. Even as Babylon laid siege to Jerusalem, he bought a field and sealed the deed as a sign that life would one day flourish again. His act of hope reminds us that God’s presence endures in the darkest times, and that what looks like an ending is never the final word. In our own divided and uncertain days, we too are called to practice hope—whether by acts of justice, small kindnesses, creative endeavors, or simply sharing wisdom with the next generation. Each hopeful act is like a candle lit in the night, testifying to the dawn that surely comes.
I am Ashamed to Beg
I am Ashamed to Beg
This week’s Gospel about the dishonest manager led me to wrestle with the words, “I am ashamed to beg.” Why, I wondered, should begging be shameful? The truth is, our culture has taught us not just that begging is shameful, but that poverty itself is a moral failing. Yet poverty, in most cases, is not the result of personal shortcomings but of broken systems—wages that don’t cover basic needs, policies that leave people vulnerable, and a society that shifts blame from structures to individuals. The shame, then, isn’t in begging—it’s in our collective failure to ensure no one has to. As followers of Jesus, we’re called to respond not only with charity, meeting immediate needs, but with justice, reshaping the systems that keep people in poverty. My prayer is that we find the courage to confront these cultural stigmas, extend both compassion and advocacy, and work toward a world where no one needs to beg.
Sin & Salvation
Sin & Salvation
In Luke 15, the Pharisees criticize Jesus for keeping company with the wrong people: “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” What they meant as an insult perfectly describes Jesus’ mission, because he came to welcome sinners—and that includes all of us. Sin, as the Book of Common Prayer defines it, is the distortion of our relationships with God, one another, and creation, bending life-giving bonds into something harmful. But sin is not the end of the story. Salvation is. Too often, salvation is framed as being “saved from”—from sin, punishment, or hell. But the more powerful truth is that Jesus saves us for something: for God’s mission, for transformation, for lives marked by grace, hope, and love. Paul himself saw his salvation not just as rescue, but as a call to become an example of God’s mercy. So the real question isn’t just what you’ve been saved from, but what you’ve been saved for. When you come to the table with empty hands stretched out for bread and wine, remember that Jesus welcomes you—and listen for how God might be calling you to live out your salvation in the world.
My Precious
This week’s Gospel challenges us with Jesus’ striking words about “hating” even those closest to us — but at its heart, this passage isn’t about hatred at all. It’s about letting go of possessiveness, our tendency to cling to people, things, and control as if they were truly ours. Using Gollum’s obsession with the One Ring as a metaphor, we’re reminded how the word “my” can trap us — “my children,” “my plans,” “my precious.” Jesus calls us to release this grip, to trust God more deeply, and to nurture rather than control the relationships in our lives. True discipleship means surrendering our need to possess and embracing faith that God holds all of us — and those we love — securely in divine hands.
Learning to Sing
Today we are going to talk about inadequacy. Specifically we are going to talk about how God calls people, not in spite of, but because of their inadequacies. This pattern holds throughout Holy Scripture, but we’ll get into that later. First, a personal story.