Sermon for the 2nd Sunday of Lent - Mark 8; Genesis 17; Romans 4
I wonder if you have ever promised anything and not delivered. How has that gone? Telling your kids that you are going to do something with them only to end up being too tired. Have too much work to do. Staying late at the office. An emergency comes up. Anything. It happens right. We promise but then break the promise because we can’t foresee all things, or make sure all things will work the way we want.
Sermon for the first Sunday of Lent - Genesis 9; 1 Peter 3; Mark 1
I wonder, of those sitting here today, have you heard the story of the flood? Noah. The rain. Mt Ararat. Lions and tigers and bears…oh my. How many of us had the flannel board Noah and the Ark? A little bitty boat with the giant elephants and giraffes sticking their heads out. There is even a song by The Irish Rovers about a unicorn in the ark:
A long time ago, when the Earth was green
There was more kinds of animals than you've ever seen
And they run around free while the Earth was being born
And the loveliest of all was the unicorn.
There was green alligators and long-necked geese
Some humpty backed camels and some chimpanzees
Some cats and rats and elephants, but sure as you're born
The loveliest of all was the unicorn.
Sermon for Transfiguration Sunday, February 11, 2018 - 2 Kings 2:1-12; Mark 9:2-9
I have to confess to you this morning. It seems a weird place to begin when it is Transfiguration Sunday, but trust me, it will relate to our texts for today. You see, I sinned on Sunday. I know, surprised. I don’t know if you did or not, but I know that I have spent the week struggling with this. You see, I broke both the 9th and 10th commandments. No I did not kill anyone, that’s #5. No I did not cheat on my wife…#6. I probably did steal something by making use of time I’ve been given to watch men play a kid’s game for millions of dollars. But no. The 8th commandment is bearing false witness, which is what I’m trying to not do right now. No, the 9th and 10th deal with coveting. Coveting our neighbor’s money, inheritance, property, people, family, etc.
Sermon for the 5th Sunday after Epiphany - Isaiah 40:21-31; Mark 1:29-38
Jesus is the Savior who doesn’t forget. He doesn’t promise to call and then it slips his mind. Instead he trespasses upon you. Sets up a loudspeaker in your frontyard, proclaiming to all the world good news, the proclamation of God that he is now pleased with you on account of Christ and nothing else. Freeing you from bondage, not forgetting you in the prison of your own souls, of your own sin, of death; and releasing you from the terror of your mortality to live in Christ. The good news being that all the other news is bad news. As we hear at Advent, the opening of Isaiah 40 – “Comfort, comfort my people,” says your God. “Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and announce to her that her time of forced labor is over, her iniquity has been pardoned, and she has received from the Lord’s hand double for all her sins.” All the other refrains you hear are curses rather than blessings. The world becoming that orchestra that announces your death-march, your requiem mass, the song of the loner and the forgotten, trying to get a dead man to walk (something impossible), only to have Christ step in with one word of comfort, good news of deliverance, taking you by the hand and raising you up.