Preaching the Scriptures

  The Rt. Rev. Jeremiah Williamson John 6:1-21   Jesus Walks St. John’s, Ogdensburg   He just walked away.   The bread was still warm.   The fish were still fresh.   The crowds had never been more enthused, never more ready to embrace his reign.   And Jesus just walked away.   Like he had done his entire life.   The temptations from the desert, from the haunted wilderness, from the days just after his baptism, never left him alone.   They would fade for a time, but they would come back.   Always whispering about a throne.   Playing the songs of national triumph through his mind: songs of power and might and success, the songs they play for mighty kings.   And promising long life.   Certainly no cross.   The crowds, on that day, in this Gospel, they were convinced that he was the one.   And so they decided to come and take him by force to make him king.   Convinced that he was the one: in this Gospel lesson, but not always.   Throughout the Gospels the people pro

The Rt. Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Psalm 23   In Good Hands Christ Church, Pottersville   In the bustle of this hectic age, Psalm 23 seems to slow the world down.   It speaks from another time and place, one now buried under the weight of industrialization and technological sprawl.   It feels utterly, and happily, detached from the persistent demands of the email inbox, the heightened expectations of school and work, from deadlines and task lists.   It feels calm in a way that the world does not; simple in a way that feels lost.   With the opening verses, the psalmist paints for us an idyllic picture: the soft, cool grass of the green pastures; the peaceful still of deep waters.     In a sense, this psalm has come to conjure in its readers the same feelings vacationers hope to find in these mountains, in the Adirondacks.   Urbanites flock here in the summers, drawn by the beautiful green and the refreshing waters, hoping to find a place to rest, hoping to discover an enda

The Rt. Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Mark 6:14-29   A Sonnet and a Sermon on the Death of John the Baptist All Souls' Memorial Chapel, Keene Valley   It seems so terribly out of place here In the midst of this story of Jesus The grizzly end of the Baptist’s career Inserted as a sick anamnesis   A memory of casual violence A bloody tale of invasive trauma The price John paid for fervent piousness Was at this king’s party merely drama   “This John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.” The sick royal act still haunted the king The prophet returned when he was amazed Until the guilt became his everything   A head on a platter would represent The lengths one will go to not repent   This story is, I think, supposed to clash, supposed to abruptly disrupt the narrative.   As it stands in stark contrast to the harp interlude that preceded its reading this morning, so does it stand in stark contrast to the surrounding pericopes in Mark’s Gospel.   It i

  The Rt. Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Mark 6:1-13   An Underdog Story Zion, Hudson Falls   Rooting for the underdog was built into their DNA.   They were, after all, the children of Jacob: named for that younger son who had outwitted and outpaced the older.   They were the children of Joseph: the slave who would rule an empire.   They were the children of Moses: a man of slow speech who would reluctantly, but ultimately, speak the word of God.     Their history was told by the unexpected.   Their faith carried forward by the marginalized.   The barren birthed this people.   And so, they loved an underdog story.   They celebrated that Esther challenged kings.   And Gideon triumphed severely outnumbered.   And Samuel was called to prophetic ministry as a lowly child.   And they, perhaps best of all, loved David. David was their greatest king.   And he was and is and ever shall be the archetype of the underdog.   Every mismatch, be it in politics, war, or sports, is labeled