Words of the Mouth and Meditations of the Heart

Newsletter item published July 26, 2024. Late Saturday night on July 13, I began to see headlines telling of an assassination attempt on former President Trump at an election rally. My heart sank at the thought that someone felt that this was necessary, and that they felt that it would solve the problem they thought was justified by murder. As I was preparing for the first worship service the next morning, I looked over the Gospel reading, which was the story of Herod having John the baptizer beheaded because his wife hated John ( Mark 6:14-29 ). I immediately saw parallels in that story and the drama of the attempted assassination and thought back to the article I wrote in last month’s newsletter about civil political discussion. In both cases of murder and attempted murder, someone justified their call for death by a morality built on self-righteousness and loathing, a seething hatred of someone amplified by power. In the case of Herodias, she hated John because he called out her

Pentecost X sermon, delivered at St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Louisville, KY Text: Ephesians 3:14-21 , John 6:1-21 A long time ago, in a university not too far away, I failed calculus. Twice. As I stand here before you today, I can say that in the long run, it didn’t really matter, even though at the time it was a big deal to me. I was a student and I was focused on succeeding at what I thought I wanted to do, not on what I was capable of doing. I didn’t have the advantage of experience to know that there were second, third, and even fourth chances to find success where I had failed. And I can say that it ultimately didn't matter from the advantage of hindsight. But what about today? Am I going to say something today that will have a negative impact on my life later on? I hope not. Will a decision that I may make this week change my life in some unexpected way sometime in the future? I don’t know. If I dwell on this too long, I can start to have a deer-in-the-headlights reactio

July parish newsletter article. Shortly after the guilty verdict was handed down at Donald Trump’s hush-money trial, I saw a post on social media saying that both he and Jesus had been convicted at sham trials. This sentiment disturbed me deeply for a few reasons. First, it elevated Mr. Trump to a level at or near where we hold Jesus as our Lord and savior. Second, it called into question the validity and reason for the trial because Mr. Trump’s supporters did not like the verdict, evidence notwithstanding. Third, when we talk about Jesus’ trial, it is most often followed closely by his death on the cross and what it means for our sins and salvation. I do not want to see Mr. Trump die as a martyr, or as anything else. I cannot accept that his death would be for a noble cause that brings us to a better place, and I cannot abide by profaning the sacred Passion of Christ by comparing it to Mr. Trump’s trial. What I do accept is that there are people experiencing anger, despair, and frus

 Pentecost VII sermon, delivered at St. Paul's Episcopal Church, Louisville, KY Text: 2 Corinthians 12:2-10 , Mark 6:1-13 There has been a lot of speculation over many, many years about Paul’s “thorn” in his flesh that he mentions in his letter to the Corinthians, and that has led to speculation that he had some physical ailment. In the closing of his letter to the Galatians, he writes “see what large letters I write with my own hand,” suggesting something affecting his vision or maybe dexterity. Other interpretations are more spiritual or pastoral, picking up on his underlying message to the Corinthians that this ailment, this suffering, is to the glory of God. Amid his mention of his thorn is a lot of talk of boasting, calling attention to his strength of faith with a little bit of pride thrown in. He boasts about a spiritual experience that “someone I know,” meaning him, had, and about the “exceptional character of the revelation,” meaning his story, and then goes on to talk abo