Preaching the Scriptures

  The Rt. Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Matthew 2:1-12   Wonder St. Mark’s, Hoosick Falls   As a child, I knew this story through the song.   We Three Kings is the only hymn from the Epiphany section of Hymnal 1982 that even Pentecostals sing.   And while I could not have pinpointed the Orient on a map or defined a moor, the song made sense to me; I could sense that there was something true about it.   Because it captured the very heart of this story from Matthew’s Gospel.   At the heart of this story is wonder.   While these travelers are described as wise, I don’t think it was wisdom that disjoined them from the comforts of home.   In fact, traditional wisdom might discourage one from chasing an untethered star through the pitfalls of strange lands and unknown territories, all while carrying expensive, and very stealable, cargo.   I think they were enticed by wonder.   This story is riddled with mystery; and it is ...

  The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Christmas Eve 2023 Luke 2:1-20   Emmanuel in a world that is not safe   What I remember most vividly of our first moments together are his perfectly round head and the clarion cry that belied the smallness of his body.   Isaiah, my youngest son, came into the world on a Sunday morning and, as he continues to do, made his presence known.   It snowed on Saturday night, the night preceding his birth – a thick, Spring snow.   And Jen went into labor, before we were ready, twenty-three days in advance of Isaiah’s Annunciation due date.     That Sunday evening we sat in our hospital room with our newborn baby.   And, in that strange mix of exhaustion and euphoria, we looked out the window, a few stories above the nearby park.   The oaks had not yet turned green.   It was early in the month of March and the snow still fell, though now gently.   Like in a snow globe, as it begins to se...

  The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Luke 2:1-20   Small God   The mystery of Christmas is found in the packaging.   I don’t mean white paper boxes and whimsical gift wrap – although anyone who has ever tried to wrap a basketball or a bicycle knows that gift wrapping can be one of the world’s great mysteries.   I mean instead the mystery of how a very big God can be wrapped up in the soft skin of a tiny baby.   The God who inhabited the formless void of the universe, who danced in space before the planets were set in their courses, Stretched out in the close confines of a young womb.   The God whose voice said, “Let there be light,” Struggled to squawk out a primal, wordless cry.   The very hands that pulled humanity from the dust of the earth, Small enough to wrap a fist around Joseph’s rough finger.   The lips that kissed life into Adam, Suckled furiously at Mary’s tender breasts.   The feet that walked ...

  The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Luke 2:41-52   Losing Jesus   She couldn’t help it.   The angel’s words just kept playing in her mind, on this seemingly endless loop.   They wouldn’t stop; neither would her tears.     The image of that angelic face, burned into her maternal memory, haunted her now, as she frantically scoured the bustling city streets.   When Heaven showed up and asked her to carry a child, she responded immediately and affirmatively.   She went along with the crazy plan.   But now that she needed something from Heaven, a little help, a little guidance, she got back nothing but silence.   When a parent cannot find their child, time slows to a crawl – one minute stretches into an eternity.   And for Mary it had been three days – of searching and crying and trying to keep it together, oh, and praying unanswered prayers.   Three agonizing days.   Every minute introduced yet another dr...

  The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Luke 2:1-20   Immanuel   36 weeks and 4 days into Jen’s second pregnancy I returned home from a vestry retreat.   That night, as we slept, a snowstorm swept into Northwest Ohio and Jen, my wife, was awakened by contractions.   She gently and calmly roused me from my sleep to inform me that she was driving herself to the hospital, in the snowstorm.   I, of course, made a counter-offer, one that I thought was quite strong, one that she quickly and decisively rejected.   She was driving to the hospital convinced that she would return to our bed in a matter of hours with the diagnosis of false labor.   And I was to stay home with our two-year old because he was a terrible sleeper and why wake him for false labor pains.   And so, aware I was not winning this negotiation, I laid back down, phone in hand, resigned to await my wife’s promised return.   The contractions, it turned out, were not false; ...

  The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Matthew 2:1-12   Scary Baby   I too have been afraid because of a baby – but for reasons very unlike the king.   All those times that now, in retrospect, after raising two babies, don’t seem scary at all, but in the moment did: When I was first alone with that tiny human, when my wife took a well-deserved first post-partum shower, and being a new dad became very real.   It was just the two of us, in that bright, sterile hospital room – him clueless about the world, me clueless about parenthood.   Of course, it was that very moment when that little baby decided to fill his diaper for the first time, which is, in itself, a scary scene, something right out of a horror movie.   And I remember that anxiety I would feel when the baby monitor would begin to sound and his little form would begin to stir in his crib – Jen at a meeting miles away.   I would spring into action; get the bottle warmer ready and pray tha...

  The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson John 1:1-18   Here   In the turbulent days of the Vietnam War, as the sky and the streets flashed with apocalyptic fantasies, Madeline L’Engle wrote a Christmas poem called The Risk of Birth:   This is no time for a child to be born, With the earth betrayed by war & hate And a comet slashing the sky to warn That time runs out & the sun burns late.   That was no time for a child to be born, In a land in the crushing grip of Rome; Honour & truth were trampled by scorn– Yet here did the Saviour make his home.   When is the time for love to be born? The inn is full on the planet earth, And by a comet the sky is torn– Yet Love still takes the risk of birth.   What the poet captures is the great scandal of the Incarnation – namely that it happens here.   Here: where there is never made enough room.   Here: where the rooms are too dusty and the hearts too often in...

The Rev. Jeremiah Williamson Matthew 2:1-12 The Journey I don’t really like the journey.   Don’t get me wrong: I like traveling, but I like traveling because I love the destination – arriving and exploring, seeing new places, immersing myself in the experience.   I love all of that stuff.   I just do not enjoy the getting there.   I don’t really enjoy driving.   I don’t really like air travel – especially having to arrive early and wait around at the airport.   My wife talked me into taking a train trip to New York once when we lived in Toledo; it was pretty, in parts, but a lot of the scenery was boring and overall that train was just too slow for my taste.   I don’t enjoy the journey – which I realize is one of the least Episcopalian things I could ever say.   We’re always talking about how it is all about the journey.   And, spiritually, I totally agree; practically, though, I’m all about checking off those boxes.   I make...