Tomorrow I'm officiating a sermon for someone I've never met. It is for a 97 year old woman who was a life-long Episcopalian but had moved from her home town in the last few years so her son (Roman Catholic) went looking for an Episcopal priest to do her funeral. It is a strange, but beautiful, position to be in. I get to see pictures of this stranger, who is my unknown sister in faith. I get to hear stories about her life -- her adventures, her sorrows, her quirks. And I get to be with her family in this time that is so poignant for them as they remember and love and celebrate her. For some sacraments I find that knowing the person really matters. In marriage ceremony, I feel more joyous the more I know the couple and know something about their love and support for one another. In baptism, I feel much more confident when I know that we as a congregation really and truly will be able to do all in our power to support this person in their life of faith because we really and truly have a relationship with them. Even in the Eucharist I find it incredibly meaningful and humbling to give bread to someone when I know a little bit about their life story. But for a funeral, I can say and pray the beautiful words of the Episcopal liturgy and without knowing the person a bit, feel perfectly assured that they are true. This person is the Lord's possession, a sheep of God's own fold. Light perpetual shines upon her. She now rests where sorrow and pain are no more, neither sighing, but life everlasting. Alleluia!
April 8, 2018 Easter 2 John 20:19-31 Today in the church world is often called Low Sunday because of the generally low attendance. After all, everyone came last week and heard the biggest story of all! So church can be crossed off the to-do list for a while. Have you heard the joke about the man who came out of church on Easter and the minister pulled him aside and said, "You need to join the Army of the Lord!" The man replied, "I'm already in the Army of the Lord." The minister questioned, “Then how come I don't see you except at Christmas and Easter?" The man whispered back, "I'm in the secret service." I recently heard a name for today that I much prefer to Low Sunday - Holy Humor Sunday. Apparently, the early church had a tradition of observing the week following Easter Sunday as "days of joy and laughter" with parties and picnics to celebrate Jesus' resurrection. And so there is a (small but grow...
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