Month: September 2025

A Good Steward

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Sermon for September 21, 2025

Readings:

Amos 8:4-7
Psalm 113
1 Timothy 2:1-7
Luke 16:1-13

Our family has been rewatching Downton Abbey lately in preparation for the new and final film which is about to come out. Not that we need to rewatch it; we’ve seen the series several times at this point, but it is a nice diversion and even little Lord Robert seems to be enjoying it. One of the central themes that comes up over and over again in that show is the idea of stewardship or being stewards. The Crawleys don’t see themselves so much as owners of the great estate, but as stewards of it. Episode after episode there is discussion after discussion about how they have a duty to hand something on to the next generation. They inherited the estate, but they had to do everything in their power to manage it wisely and carefully in order to pass it on. It was never just theirs. To be a steward of something, means that you are a caretake for a time, but not forever. It doesn’t really belong to you. 

I was reminded of that this week when I was signing for a permit to replace the roof over the parish hall. Incidentally we have to replace the roof over the parish hall to stop all those leaks you may have noticed. Anyways I had to sign the form under “owner.” Well I have had to do this many times before and it always feels odd. I am the rector, I am the executive of the organization and the legal representative with the power to sign for things, but I would never call myself the owner. I’m not the owner. None of us is. We are stewards that are entrusted with the responsibility of this place for a while, but not forever. 

We have less of that kind of talk now, of being stewards. Churches are one of the few places where we still talk about stewardship, but even when we do that, we are more often than not just talking about paying today’s bills. We aren’t usually thinking beyond next year’s budget. We live in a world of buying and selling and living in the moment. We aren’t trained to think long-term anymore. I think part of what makes Downton Abbey feel quaint is all that talk of duty and stewardship and responsibility and tradition. Everyone lives in a world of generations and eras. There is as much talk of history as there is the headlines in the papers. It’s quaint, but this understanding of stewardship, of being a generational care-taker, isn’t completely foreign to us. We know what it means. We just don’t think about it as much. We think that right now is all that really matters.

But to be a good steward, one has to be aware that one’s position is time-limited. The thing that you are the steward over will not always be yours. And what then? Will you leave something behind that is better and stronger than you found it? What future are you helping to create? And what of your time in power? Will you be remembered for using the power and influence you were afforded to help others, or will people think of you as self-centered and greedy? As a steward, the actions you take now will have future consequences, and will be judged by future generations, and you have to always be aware of that. 

This morning’s gospel reading is a difficult one, and I think it is made more difficult by our modern translation which calls the dishonest main character a “manager.” The King James Version uses the word “steward” which I think is more to the point and has a little less corporate baggage than the word “manager.” A rich man has a steward; someone who does not own the property outright, but nonetheless has the authority to run things and make decisions. Now we are told from the very beginning that the man is being fired for squandering the owner’s property. That is an important point to remember. The manager is already being fired for what he has done before his actions in the gospel story. We aren’t really given many details though. We are told that he was squandering property. Well judging by what happens next, we must assume that the steward or manager was not squandering property by lavishing gifts or preferment on his friends and acquaintances. He wasn’t storing money away in a secret retirement fund. He had to have been living purely for the moment. He must have been spending the money on momentary pleasures for himself, because this steward doesn’t start thinking about the future and about others UNITL he finds out he is about to be fired. The termination of his position seems to come as quite a shock to him. Like he wasn’t expecting it, or just thought his power and position would go on and on. It hits him like a ton of bricks when he finds out he is being let-go. Then all of his past decisions start coming out to haunt him. He has no money saved, and he doesn’t want to work and doesn’t want to beg. And it is clear from what happens next that he doesn’t have any friends either. This steward has been a terrible steward because he has been living only for himself and not thinking about the future. It comes as a shock to him when he realizes that his position is time-limited. To be a good steward one has to realize that one’s position is time-limited and he doesn’t. 

So he does something that is both shady, and forward thinking. It’s the first time this steward really starts to think about the future. He goes to everyone that owes the master money and he reduces their debt. He cooks the books, but probably for the first time he cooks the books not in his own favor but in someone else’s. He knows now that he needs other people. He knows that his future is in jeopardy because all this time he has been only thinking of himself, and taking, and using his position for his own pleasure and enjoyment. Now that he knows that power and wealth is fleeting, he realizes that it is relationships that really endure, so he goes around trying to repair those in his last few moments. It’s shady, its’s dishonest, but at least the steward has learned a valuable lesson. And the rich owner commends him. And that is a part of the gospel story that people really struggle with. Why does the rich man commend this dishonest steward for giving his money away?

Well we know that the master of the estate does not appreciate or condone dishonesty; that is why the steward is being fired in the first place. But finally the steward has learned what stewardship is really about: the future. The steward finally woke up to realize that living for the moment, and living for himself, was not enough. That is what the owner was commending. He had finally gotten enough wisdom to realize that it wasn’t all about him. He had been a slave to his own greed and self-interest and now at least, he was free of that. 

I have often said that inside of every pulpit should be inscribed the words “it’s not about you!” Perhaps those words should also be written on the vestry minutes or financial reports. Perhaps they should be written on the bulletins, in the prayer books, and on our website. Maybe we should paint them on the wall over the altar. Because all of us, on some level, are stewards of something. Whether it is the planet we live on, the country we live in, or the church we pray in, we have all been given responsibility, for a time to manage and make use of something that doesn’t really belong to us. What will we do with it? Will we be enslaved to our own interests and the needs of the moment? Or will we think about the generations to come? I will be interested to see how the Downton Abbey saga concludes, and please don’t anyone spoil it for me. But I would be willing to bet that the creators of the show will spend as much time thinking ahead to the family’s future as they do revisiting moments from the family’s past. I guess we shall see. 

It’s me, hi, I’m the problem. It’s me.

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Sermon for September 14, 2025

Readings:

Exodus 32:7-14
Psalm 51:1-11
1 Timothy 1:12-17
Luke 15:1-10

I became an Episcopalian in college and the parish that sponsored me for the priesthood was actually a college chapel at the University of Miami. That chapel had a very interesting set of stations of the cross hanging on the wall in the nave. Now if you aren’t familiar with the stations of the cross, they are a very old devotional practice of remembering Jesus’s final moments through fourteen different reflections or stations that are often depicted in some artistic form. We have stations of the cross here. That is what those little pictures are hanging on the beams all around you. 

Well, at the chapel in Miami, it will come as no surprise that our stations had a very Caribbean flavor to them. They were actually all carved panels of wood that were done by an artist in Haiti. There were sometimes a topic of discussion though, because occasionally someone would make the observation that all of the Roman soldiers depicted, including those nailing Jesus to the cross, had distinctly African features. Now, the knee-jerk reaction that some folks would have to seeing this would be to proclaim that this artwork was racist in some way, because the “bad guys” were depicted as African. There is no question that racism finds its way into all aspects of human society because it is a product of human sinfulness and always has been. But the mistake some people made in their rush to pronounce a judgement on those stations of the cross is that they overlooked one crucial detail: the artist was Haitian. The artist was Haitian and he knew exactly what he was doing in depicting those Roman soldiers with African features. He wanted them to look like himself. He was putting himself into the story. The Romans, the crucifiers, the sinners, the “bad guys,” they needed to look like the person he saw when he looked in the mirror. The artist knew what he was doing. As someone who could have justifiably depicted the Romans as the French or the English, or any other nationality that had participated in the slave trade (and there are many), he chose instead to cast himself in that role. The oppressor in this artist’s depiction of Jesus’s journey to the cross, was himself.

Now I know that there are people who would want to analyze this on many different levels and make all sorts of pronouncements based on culture, history, or Psychology, and some of that may be perfectly true. But a fundamental part of the Christian journey of faith is the ability to recognize one’s own sinfulness. The ritual of baptism, where we actually become Christian, necessarily involves a recognition of one’s own sinful nature. It is not enough to point to the sins of others; we must take responsibility for our own sins. That is repentance and the Christian faith begins with an act of repentance. As September the 14th is the Feast of the Holy Cross in the church’s calendar, I have been thinking specifically about the cross of Christ this week, and my mind was drawn to those stations of the cross in Miami carved lovingly and carefully by that Haitian artist. And I can’t help but marvel at the spiritual maturity that it takes to recognize sinfulness and evil within your own self. That is what that artist was doing. He was saying that I, am not merely a passive bystander in the story of Jesus, but I am a sinner, and I am precisely the sort of person that Jesus died on the cross to save. I am a sinner, not because of my race, my gender, or my circumstances, but because of my humanity. Despite all of our therapy, and don’t get me wrong I am a huge proponent of therapy, it is a wonderful and life-saving thing, but despite therapy being more common, the ability to publicly and honestly acknowledge our own sinfulness and broken human nature seems to be less common. It is becoming a lost art. And I’m sorry, but I have to think that part of the reason we are living in this age of vicious division and political violence and online hatred, is that we are losing the ability to own and claim our own sinfulness. It is so much easier to always be a victim. It is so much easier to always look for the fault in someone else. The situation we are in is because of the radical left or the reactionary right. It is the fault of the mentally ill, the gun lobby, the internet, politicians. In times of great upheaval and uncertainty we want someone to blame. It has become increasingly unpopular and uncommon to own our own faults. Everyone else is the problem. I don’t often reference or refer to Taylor Swift, I’m not a devotee, but I am quite fond of her song anti-hero because I think it does just this: it shows someone taking responsibility for the troubles in their own life.

It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me
At tea time, everybody agrees
I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror
It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Such a great lyric. We don’t want to look in the mirror. We don’t want to examine our own words or our own actions. We don’t want to acknowledge that we all share some responsibility for the pain and suffering in the world. Taylor’s song was very popular, but sadly the kind of honest introspection that she is singing about isn’t. We want to blame everyone else for our problems. The temptation to blame others for all your problems is so pervasive that it goes all the way back to the beginning when Adam blamed Eve and Eve blamed the serpent. We don’t want to take responsibility. And if all the problems in our lives are the fault of someone else, or some other group, then the solution is very easy: just eliminate them. Eliminate those people. This is what humans have done throughout history. This is what the Romans were doing nailing Jesus to the cross: eliminating a problem. This is what Paul was doing when he was having Jesus’s followers stoned to death. He was simply eliminating a problem. Until one day he realized that HE was the problem. 

In Paul’s letter to Timothy, he writes: “The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners– of whom I am the foremost.” Of whom I am the foremost…do not forget that Paul added that little bit at the end. Paul isn’t just saying that YOU need Jesus. Paul is saying that I need Jesus. Paul is testifying to his own sinfulness and brokenness. He isn’t just saying y’all are messed up. Y’all are a problem. He is saying we are a problem. He is saying I am a problem. I am a sinner. We sinners, and that means all of us, we are the problem. We are the ones Christ came to save. We are the lost sheep. 

That is why the grace of the Lord is such an amazing gift for Paul, because he knows that is has nothing to do with merit or righteousness. Paul did not deserve the love of God. He says himself that he was a man of violence. But he says, he received mercy anyways. Paul did not deserve God’s mercy, but he received it. Paul did not deserve God’s love, but he received it. Paul did not deserve God’s grace, but he received it, because that is what grace is. Grace is a gift you don’t earn and don’t deserve. It is pure gift. Friends, our world needs more grace right now. Our world needs more people who know that they are sinners, who understand that they are not righteous, who can acknowledge that they have received grace and mercy from God and therefore must MUST show grace and mercy to others. Even if they don’t deserve it. Especially if they don’t deserve it. Because that is what grace is.

I am a big fan of the Wall Street Journal columnist and former Regan speech writer Peggy Noonan. Her columns the last couple weeks in particular have really been on point. Two weeks ago she shared an exchange that she had had with a veteran political consultant who was talking about young political operatives, and something she said really struck me. She said to this political consultant: “I write for those 33-year-old operatives you speak of who have actually never seen grace.” If they don’t know what it looks like they can’t emulate it, they can’t adopt it and give it new life because they don’t know what it was.”

We need to wake up and realize that there are young people in our world right now who do not know or understand grace, so it is up to us to tell them, but more importantly show them, what it is and how it works. We have been taught, and shown, grace by the master. Our Lord didn’t just come to save the persecuted, he came to save the persecutors as well. He came to save sinners of all sorts. He came even to save those Romans that were nailing him to the cross. He asked God to forgive them with one of his last breaths. That is how grace works. It is given to those who don’t deserve it. Those of us who worship beneath the foot of the cross week after week, need to remember that. We need to remind the world what grace looks like.

The paradox of God’s Grace

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Sermon for September 7, 2025

Readings:

Deuteronomy 30:15-20
Psalm 1
Philemon 1-21
Luke 14:25-33

The religious life is filled with paradoxes, or seemingly contradictory ideas that are nonetheless, both true. It can be frustrating sometimes, when you go looking for an easy answer. One of those paradoxes is that sometimes the more you know, the less you understand. This is especially true with scripture. Today’s gospel is a good example. 

Now on the surface, today’s gospel is about the cost of discipleship. What does it really take to be a follower of Jesus Christ? Can we just call ourselves Christians and leave it at that, or is Jesus looking for more substantial proof? And Jesus is shockingly blunt. He says, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.” What a thing to say! Welcome back families! Here I am trying to make this a very family friendly church, and Jesus goes and pulls the rug right out from under me on the day Sunday school starts back up. Hate your families. Thanks a lot Jesus that’s very helpful. So to try and make some sense out of what Jesus is saying and to give some context, naturally I went back and looked at the whole passage of scripture and everything that came before this. That’s when things got more confusing. The more I read, the less I understood.

You see immediately before Jesus makes this statement to the large crowd, he had been at dinner with some Pharisees. It was at that dinner that he taught about being humble and not taking the high place at the table. That was the passage that I preached on last week. But then at that same dinner, Jesus goes on to tell a story that compares the kingdom of God to a great dinner. The host invited many people to come, but they all found some excuse not to go. Everyone was busy. Someone just purchased some land, someone just purchased some new cows, someone just got married. Everyone had some good reason to turn down their invitation to this free banquet. So the host sends out his messengers to invite the poor, and the crippled, and the blind and the lame, and when he discovers he still has room for more, he sends out his messengers again and says bring in anyone so that my house may be filled. Jesus tells this wonderful story about the Kingdom of God and he compares it to a free banquet, that some people refuse their invitation to, and then, in the very next line, we get today’s gospel passage. The very next line is Jesus telling the crowd the true cost of discipleship.

So which is it? Is God’s kingdom a free gift or is it something that costs us dearly? The bible can’t seem to decide. You see my confusion? Is the Christian life, about receiving God’s blessings, or is it about serving God? Are we supposed to celebrate the feast or carry the cross? Which is it? These two stories seem to give contradictory images of a relationship with God: the first image emphasizes God’s grace as a free and undeserved gift; the second image emphasizes what God’s grace can cost us. And yet, we are obviously meant to hear these two stories together. They are side by side in the scripture, and I am convinced that that is not by accident. This is another paradox, a truth about God that is not simple. We need to hold these two contradictory images together. This is the paradox of God’s grace: it is completely free, and it can cost you everything. It is celebration and it is sacrifice. It is rest and it is work. God’s grace, God’s Kingdom, the invitation to the banquet, the forgiveness of sins and the promise of eternal life, this is a free gift. We don’t earn it. We don’t deserve it. It is God’s love being poured out on us. That is a truth that is revealed to us in scripture time and time again. But, choosing to accept that invitation, does mean that some of the cares and pressing concerns of this world will have to come second. We will have choices to make. And sometimes choosing to put God and his invitation first, can be a really tough choice. It can and will involve hard decisions. It can and will involve sacrificing some of the things of this world. Maybe even our own lives. That was the problem with everyone that was invited to the banquet in Jesus’s story: they all had some other worldly concern that kept them from showing up. They didn’t hate the host, they were polite and sent their apologies, but they all had excuses that seemed more important. And those excuses kept them from receiving the great gift that God wanted to give them. This is the truth that Jesus and scripture is pointing us to: God’s love is a free and underserved gift, but how often do we choose to put lesser things first, before God? Is God always our number 1 priority?

You see, people get really worked up when they hear Jesus say “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.” We don’t like to hear Jesus use the word hate, especially not when it comes to those we love, but we need to remember where that love we share with our families ultimately comes from. It comes from God. It is a gift from God. Your father, your mother, your wife, your children, brothers and sisters, even your own life…that all comes to you from God. If we put anything else before God, we are getting things out of order. We aren’t paying attention to the true source. Jesus doesn’t want you to actually hate your mother and father, because honoring your mother and father is a commandment of God. But the first commandment of God is I am your God, you shall have no other God’s before me, so everything else, no matter how important, has to come second. Without the first commandment to worship only God, none of the other commandments like honoring your parents have any power or authority. The first commandment is the foundation of all the commandments. God has to come first.

I think Jesus is trying to shake people up a bit and make them think about their lives. I think Jesus wants his followers to understand that following him means accepting God’s invitation to the banquet, and that means a radical shift in priorities that is necessarily going to change how you live in this world. It can mean making some tough choices, because the world we live in does not want you to put God first. The world wants to keep you busy with good excuses, so it’s tough. Despite the message that many people are sold about what it means to be a Christian, the Christian life is not a simple thing. In many ways it is a paradox that many struggle to understand and many oversimplify. God does want us to have life and have it in abundance; God does want to bless us with good things. But God also warns us that truly following him is not easy and involves real sacrifice and real work. This is one of those occasions where both things are true. God’s grace is free, but it will cost you something. It may cost you everything.