Sermon: "Lose the Recipe", 2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14/Galatians 5:1, 13-25 (June 30, 2019)

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Do you ever wonder what scripture would look like if the early Christians hadn’t screwed up so much?

I do. I mean, Paul’s primary motivation for letter-writing was usually to correct some misconception that had been making the rounds in Christian communities, and depending on who you ask, these letters make up anywhere from 30 to almost 50 percent of the New Testament. It was always something with those blockheads: either they were excluding gentiles, or they couldn’t get along with each other, or they were pledging their allegiance to specific teachers instead of to Christ, or they were keeping other people as personal property…they just couldn’t seem to get it right, no matter how many times Paul yelled at—err, wrote to them.

Sermon: "You Know What They Say About Assuming..." Isaiah 65:1-9/1 Kings 19:1-15 (June 23, 2019)

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Today, I’d like to present to you a tale of three assumptions:

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Jezebel was a queen. She’d grown up a princess, the daughter of a Phoenician king. Because she was a beautiful woman of royal lineage, she’d married King Ahab of the northern kingdom of Israel as a gesture of peace and goodwill between their two nations. Her whole life had been shaped by the intrigues and politics of court, so she was no stranger to conflict. She wasn’t particularly seductive or devious, as tradition has made her out to be; she was just a product of her context.

Sermon: "Trinity Trouble", John 16:12-15, Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31 (June 16, 2019)

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This week, an acquaintance of mine found herself faced with a dilemma that I’m sure many of you are familiar with: her son came home from camp saying that an older kid had told him the Tooth Fairy isn’t real, and he wanted to know if it was true. Now, obviously, having never met the Tooth Fairy personally, his mom couldn’t answer with any real authority, but she did her best to help her son think through the issue. They agreed that sometimes older kids say things that aren’t true just to bully younger kids. They also noted that her son didn’t know this older kid well enough to know if he’s trustworthy or not. And they acknowledged that SOMEONE had been taking his baby teeth while he slept and leaving money behind in its place. They ultimately concluded that, while the non-existence of the Tooth Fairy is certainly a startling possibility, there simply wasn’t enough evidence to prove one way or another. Her son decided to give the Tooth Fairy the benefit of the doubt and keep believing in her. After all, it wasn’t worth losing the extra income over something that he couldn’t really know for sure.

Sung to the Tune of "The Sound of Silence"...

In case you've ever wondered what the process of writing a sermon is like, I wrote a little ditty to express what I feel on those weeks when my sermon is feels particularly unwilling to come together (other clergy have corroborated this interpretation):

Sermon: “Unity Without Uniformity”, Genesis 11:1-9/Acts 2:1-21 (June 9, 2019--Pentecost)

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I feel compelled to begin my sermon today with a disclaimer. Nothing I say here today will be a new idea. None of this is groundbreaking. The thoughts that I’m sharing with you this morning occurred to me immediately after reading the scripture passages, and then nearly every commentary I read afterward affirmed them—which leads me to believe that this particular interpretation of Pentecost is based in a deeper, already-known truth. But you can judge for yourself.

Sermon: "Time To Lose the Training Wheels", Luke 24:44-53/Acts 16:23-34 (May 2, 2019--Ascension Sunday)

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I was about five years old when I decided that I didn’t want training wheels on my bike anymore. I was the big sister; it was time for me to woman up. When I told my dad about my intentions, he grabbed his trusty screwdriver and headed outside with me. After the offending wheels had been removed came the hard part: I had to figure out how to convince the bike to stay upright with me on it. We started off on the grass, so that any (inevitable) falls would be less painful. But we quickly found out that my five-year-old legs weren’t yet capable of an off-road adventure. So, with a bit of trepidation and a whole lot of determination, we relocated our operation to asphalt.