Faith in Progress

For Bear Tuesday, May 22, 2018 Jefferson Funeral Chapel Today is the hardest of days.  We gather here to grieve for Bear -- husband, father, brother, son, friend and coach and so much more -- gone much too soon and suddenly.  We gather in sorrow, struggling to find some sense of hope.  We gather in pain, hoping to find some sense of comfort.  We gather with questions and regrets, needing so badly to find a sense of peace. Barb, you’ve lost your husband, your best friend, your confidante.  Audrey and Rachel, you’ve lost your funny, proud, loving dad.  And there are no words to make that better, nothing that can fill that hole.  I know Bear still loves you, he is still proud of you, he will never be far from you.  And yet all of us know that isn’t the same as his being here with you.  Please know that this room today is full of people who want to offer you our prayers, our love, and our support as you begin to reshape your lives.  Know that today, but maybe more importantly, r

Pentecost May 20, 2018 Last Sermon at St. Aidan’s I love the humanness of the start of our story from Acts today.  There the disciples gather, huddled together in sadness over the loss of their beloved leader and friend.  Fearful that the authorities may be coming for them next.  Unsure what to do or where to go.  They can’t imagine carrying on Jesus’ ministry on their own — who were they after all?  Just ordinary people — fisherman and tax collectors, brothers and friends.  There was nothing particularly holy about them other than their association with Jesus.  And so there they were, all clamped shut in that room, with their broken hearts and their tense shoulders and their befuddled minds.  Sheep without a shepherd.  I picture another group feeling a lot like that.  A group of pilgrims to Iona, after our beloved Ian Roberts collapsed in our midst. Someone once said that “[t]o journey without being changed is to be a nomad, to change without journeying is to be a ch