Preaching the Scriptures

The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a What will we be?   I remember exactly where I was when I realized this virus was serious.   I was in my car, pulling out of the parking lot of First Baptist, when the voice on the radio declared that the NCAA had canceled March Madness, the extraordinarily popular college basketball tournament.   That’s a billion dollars.   No one, especially not the NCAA, throws away a billion dollars – unless they absolutely have to.     In the days that followed, cancelations and closures piled up.   And pretty soon, the world was on hold.   Our clocks kept ticking, but there were no longer appointments.   We stilled crossed off the days on the calendar, but our calendars were empty.   March of 2020 was eighteen long months ago.   What seemed at first an unwelcome interruption, a short inconvenience, became a pandemic slog.   I shed tears of disbelief when the virus interfered with our Easter plans – the first time, Easter of 2020, le

  The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Mark 8:27-38   A Hard Teaching   James’ advice is certainly some of the least heeded in the entire Bible.   “Not many of you should become teachers…”   Considering there are approximately 3.5 million teachers in our country alone, not to mention professors, instructors, and faith leaders, I would suppose even the most ardent biblical literalists do not take this canonical counsel literally.   “Not many of you should become teachers…” is an interesting passage to hear on the very Sunday we begin Sunday School, on the day we bless students and teachers, on the day Mthr. Claire teaches the first session of our new class, The Road to Emmaus, at the beginning of a new year of Ribbon Training, and early in this sixth season of our Parish Bible Study.   Teaching, it seems, is much more popular in the parish than it is in the epistle of James.   Honestly, even Jesus doesn’t take James all that seriously.   Today’s Gospel contains the phrase, a

  The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Isaiah 35:4-7a   Dreamer   Isaiah was as dreamer.   And I mean that as a compliment.   And I say that, because, while I know pretty much what every person in this world is against these days, I know almost nothing of their dreams.   I know what makes them rage, but I have no idea what brings tears to their eyes.     It sometimes feels like we are living on a scorched earth.   To me it feels like everywhere I look there is seething discontent, just so much anger; every post, that is not a baby, a pet, or a pun, is a complaint, frustration, or insult; every headline a tragedy; every cable news segment a red-hot poker; every life and every death fuel for some partisan fire.     Of course, there are things in the world that should fill us with holy anger, but just probably not everything.     I don’t claim to know all the reasons for all the anger; I’m sure they are legion.   But it does seem that there is always something beneath the anger,