Preaching the Scriptures

  The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Isaiah 49:1-7   In Vain   I shouldn’t have been mad at them but I was.   Our neighbors across the alley are very nice guys, a lovely older couple.   They greet us warmly when we pass on family dog walks.   They say kind things about our boys.   They hand out lots of candy on Halloween.   Every time I see them they flash me a kind smile and an enthusiastic wave.   And still I was fuming.   It was Spring of 2020.   And I was trying to record a sermon in my back yard, in the shadow of a blossoming lilac bush.   And take after take after take were interrupted by the sudden screech of a power saw.   Little did they know that their woodworking project was ruining my life and I about to absolutely lose it.   Three years ago, in January of 2020, things were going really well.   I had been at the church for four years.   And those four years had been exciting and encou...

  The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Luke 10:25-37   Rule of Three I suspect you have heard of the old “rule of three.”   In storytelling, for example, it is often suggested that a listener finds triads more effective, more humorous, more satisfying.   And so there is a plethora, a profusion, an abundance, if you will, of stories in which we find three characters or three events or three items featured prominently.   Not only do listeners find the threes more satisfying, this predictable structure also makes it easier to remember the details of the story.   In the story of the Three Little Pigs, there are three little houses: one of straw, one of sticks, and one of bricks.   In the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, the porridge is too hot, too cold, and just right; the beds too hard, too soft, and, of course, just right.   Going back much further, in the Bible, in the book of Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego end up in the fiery...

  The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Mark 12:28-34   Our Return to the Nave   Well, we’re inside.   This is an exciting day, one we have long awaited.   Today, for the first time in many months, I can gesture with both hands while I preach, like God intended, without having to worry about my pages flying off into Tejon Street.   I don’t to have to wonder if the altar book will turn its pages in the middle of a chant.   I will no longer spend my Sunday mornings envious of your bundled heads and sunglassed eyes and supported backs.     Because we are, after many months, back in the nave.   I want to thank you for your patience, for your understanding, and for your trust.   I know it wasn’t always easy.   But I do appreciate your willingness to be inconvenienced for the greater good, to love our members more than your comfort.   I know today that I don’t need to say too much about the Gospel lesson, because I have see...

  The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Psalm 126   The Final Sunday on the South Lawn   Sometimes I see old pictures, pictures from a time that no longer exists, pictures from way back in the year 2019.   And in those old pictures the world looks different.   There are no masks, of course, very little concern about personal space, and an alarming lack of distancing, and that is always a bit striking.   But more than that, I see in those old pre-pandemic pictures a people who have not yet lived under the cloud of disease.   They have no idea that life is about to stop.   And change.   And change.   And change.   And scar them in ways still not entirely known.   They have no idea how many people they will bury, hundreds of thousands of people killed by a virus of which they have not yet heard.     Those pre-pandemic people had no idea how a world would respond to a global pandemic of this magnitude.   They co...

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...

The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Ephesians 5:15-20   Wisdom   Tomorrow at 8am the sound of a bell will mark the beginning of a new school year at Audubon Elementary.   As a parent I have honestly never felt so unsure, and so sick to my stomach, about the first day of school.   My children, with their erasable pens and composition notebooks and strongly encouraged facemasks, will attempt to concentrate amidst a pandemic that seems to ever find new waves of rage.   Like many parents with whom I have spoken in recent days, I have no idea if we are doing the right thing or the best thing for our boys.   We’re trying, of course; our intentions are good; our reasons are reasonable; also our doubts significant.   But if wisdom is calling to me in this moment, I’ll admit, her voice is difficult to discern in the sloshing sea of articles, advice, and opinion.     I wish it was simpler than this.   But nothing feels simple these days in:...

  The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson John 6:1-21   More than Enough   There are no bad ideas: this is something people actually say – often desperate people who find themselves leading all-too-quiet brainstorming sessions.   And everybody knows, it’s not true.   St. Andrew knows.   He realizes it just as his bad idea escapes his mouth.   Once it’s out there, you can’t put it back.   And so he tries to cover.   “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish.”   You can practically hear Andrew’s thoughts fill the space between the sentences: “why did I say that?   That was so stupid…”   And so he smoothly adds, “But what are they among so many people?”   Well, the answer is, and Andrew knows it: not much.   Perhaps a decent meal for the boy who packed it.   But in a crowd of 5000 people – 5000 hungry people – it was so little, it was insignificant.   The truth was: they did not have enoug...