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.
Practicing God’s Presence
Practicing God’s Presence
This week’s sermon explores the nature of faith, inspired by the Letter to the Hebrews, which tells us that “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Faith, at its heart, is about learning to notice the presence of God beneath the surface of everyday life—a presence that is constant, foundational, and sustaining. But recognizing this deeper reality takes practice. Just as athletes and musicians hone their skills with consistent discipline, we are invited to practice our faith by cultivating spiritual habits that help us see and embody God’s presence in the world..
The Good Samaritan
The Good Samaritan
This week’s Gospel brings us the parable of the Good Samaritan—Jesus’ bold, boundary-breaking response to the question, “Who is my neighbor?” Instead of giving a definition, Jesus tells a story where the expected heroes pass by, and the “othered” Samaritan becomes the one who shows compassion.
The Samaritan crosses both personal and societal divides, risking himself to care for someone his world told him to ignore. His compassion reveals a deeper truth: there is no such thing as the “other.” We are all beloved, woven together in God’s great tapestry.
This week, listen for how God might be calling you to embrace “dangerous unselfishness,” to love beyond your usual circles, and to challenge the lie that some lives matter less than others.
The Time That is Given Us
The Time That is Given Us
In a world weighed down by conflict, injustice, and deep fatigue, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed—to want to retreat and let the chaos play out without us. But Paul’s words to the Galatians cut through that weariness: “Let us not grow weary in doing what is right.” This week’s reflection names the exhaustion many of us carry, while reminding us that faith doesn’t ask us to ignore it—it asks us to keep going anyway. We don’t have to pretend the world isn’t hard; we just have to decide, day by day, what to do with the time we’ve been given.
Drawing on wisdom from Scripture and the quiet courage of Tolkien’s characters, we’re reminded that even in the darkest moments, goodness still glimmers. The shadow is not the end of the story. Together, in community and in faith, we press on—not because it’s easy, but because we believe that love, justice, and beauty are still worth the effort. There is good in this world—and it’s worth fighting for.