Two More and More

I walked/ran another two miles thiw morning, with slightly more running than walking. Oddly, the ankle felt fine (on the whole), but my right knee sent me an occasional jolt. Still, considering the twist-and-fall and how I felt Wednesday evening, and the discolouration in my left foot, the discomfort amounts to nowt today.

Coffee and fruit, shower, coffee and toast, finished up the sermon, then off to celebrate and preach at St Nic’s. (I’ll post the homily below.) After morning worship at St Nic’s, i’ll head home for lunch and a break before I head back to St Helen’s for the annual Epiphany Service of Music and Readings followed by the Epiphany Tea. Then, wearily, home.
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Before I Forget

My sermon this morning at the early service at St Nicolas’s* went all right; it’s short and doesn’t need any extensive editing to post, so I’ll include it below the fold. The congregation was only down by one or two worshippers, despite the very cold temperatures and icy pavements, which I thought very much to their credit — Well done, sisters and brothers!

* The 8:00 congregation actually moves back and forth between St Nic’s and St Helen’s, so it’s most precise to refer to them as such (or as ‘the eight-o’clockers’), since wherever we gather, it’s the same congregation. But here I just added the ‘at St Nicolas’s’ part because… I’m not sure why. But that’s who it was and where it was.
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Out Of Synch Notice

I finally posted the sermons for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. A few observations:

First, I was and remain uneasy about the way I use ‘darkness’ on Christmas Eve. On the whole, I avoid any usage that might elide or ‘naturalise’ an equation of darkness (and heaven help us, especially b/Blackness) with evil. I usually substitute notions such as ‘gloom’ or ‘obscurity’ with no particular loss of metaphorical effect. For this sermon, though, focused on night-time, and on its characteristic chill, heightening of loneliness, and so on, I just couldn’t wring other words to do the work that ‘darkness’ does. I think I avoided pointing the words toward any easy association between night-time and evil (especially since that would be an uncommon usage for me, not something hearers would have expected) — but I don’t think I’m immune to criticism on this point, and will sit still, penitently, for a scolding.

Second, I don’t think I stuck the ending (as you might say) of Christmas Eve. It just didn’t feel like a closing cadence. I may be too fussy about that, though.

Third, I think the Christmas Day sermon may have worked, mechanically, much better.

They’re here (I mean, there) for you to judge for yourselves, though.

Happy Yesterday Christmas

Yesterday’s Christmas service went smoothly, I think. I am a little uncomfortable about both of my sermons from Christmas this year, which means it’s all the more important that I post them publicly so as not to cater to my own vanity and perfectionism. I’ll add them below the fold when I give them another pass for misspellings, extra words I forgot to edit out (those can be a real killer when you’re in mid-exposition and suddenly a word that you haven’t seen in days turns out not to have been edited out when you recomposed the sentence with which you’d been tinkering for twenty minutes).

We left church to the firm, repeated adjuration, ‘Coffee and alcohol! Coffee and alcohol!’ (we neglected the ‘coffee’ part, though I’d totally have poured myself a cup in a travel mug except that we were taking a taxi and I didn’t want to risk spoiling the driver’s seat covers).

Then we went to a dear friend’s house to spend the afternoon having a slow, continuous Christmas dinner and Christmas drinks. Jokes, in-jokes, job commentary, theological arguments, friendship banter, impressive children, and lovingly offered gifts filled the day, and Margaret and I returned home weary but not sleepy, nibbling and sipping, and ebbing from vivacious conversation to drowsy quiet to dozy silence. I slept more than eight hours, which I rarely can achieve. I’m doing nothing very productive today: a revelation.

Bless you all. Bless you all. (Sermons to come, will delete this part when they’re posted, but remember that today I fast from everything like ‘responsibility’, so I won’t, don’t feel pressurised to post ’em quickly.) (OK, I didn’t delete the above, but I’m adding this note to say, ‘Now posted below.’)
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As Seen in the New Yorker

As you may recall, last Sunday was a double-header for me — the patronal at St Nic’s, and Sunday morning Mass at St Michael and All Angels’. Since I usually take much of Saturday to prepare Sunday morning sermons, and because I had a full day Friday, I began working on both sermons Wednesday, advanced them Thursday, and had them mostly finished by the end of Saturday morning. This sermon, though, needed a bit of a booster shot, so I interwove the start with the end of a sermon I preached back in St Stephen’s House days. So if you’re an AKMA completist, you may remember some of the ending from a time before (but honestly, I’d be surprised if you did, even more surprised than I would be if someone really did gather up copies of my past sermons). Anyway, as usual, it’s below the fold.
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Happy St Nicolas Day to All

Sunday evening I gave the homily at the Patronal Solemn Evensong at St Nicolas’s Church, one of the three churches in our benefice — the smallest, the oldest, and the one right smack on the town square. It was a jolly occasion, at which our new Rector, Jen Brown, officiated; a mixed choir (of the three congregations) sang under the direction of our Director of Music, Peter Foster; and some old codger preached.
I missed seeing Fr Paul Smith, our Team Vicar who retired in October; I associate this service with him, since he led it the previous years I’ve been connected to Abingdon Parish. With all respect to the Team Rector, it’s just not the same with him… (I’ll append the homily below the fold.)
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Warn, Wake, and Walk

I ran into a tiny snag in this morning’s sermon, a snag that nobody noticed, and that’s fine. It illustrates, though, a problem in preaching from Scripture and in Bible translation, so I mention it here not to fuss about the very dear reader, but to flag up ways that trying hard to weave together homily and Scripture and liturgy and hymnody can still come a cropper.

The Epistle reading for today is Romans 13.11–14:

Besides this, you know what time it is, how it is now the moment for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers; the night is far gone, the day is near. Let us then lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armour of light; let us live honourably as in the day, not in revelling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarrelling and jealousy. Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires.

and I had picked out the closing phrases ‘make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires’ as the text for the sermon.* Now, what I (like Officer Obie with his ‘twenty-seven 8-by-10 color glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one was, to be used as evidence against us’) had not counted upon, which was that the reader for the epistle had chosen to read the lesson from the New International Version, a translation that notoriously translates the Pauline metaphor ‘flesh’ for what the translators thought ‘flesh’ really meant in that context — namely, our ‘sinful nature’.

Now the NIV translators have gotten plenty of stick for that decision, and if I’m not mistaken there’s a new version of the NIV that reverts to ‘flesh’. I disagree vehemently with the translators’ original decision, partly because it forecloses possible ambiguities that a reader is entitled to perceive. If ‘flesh’ ever stands in for ‘sinful nature’, it doesn’t always do so, and the translator shouldn’t be the one who presumes to resolve the ambiguity on behalf of the reader if it’s at all possible to preserve the ambiguity. Further, ‘flesh’ is at least partly a metaphor here, in a way that I rely on in the sermon, and substituting a flat declaration for a metaphor is always a loss for the reader. At length, I’m not convinced that Paul ever means ‘our sinful nature’, although there’s a particular theological angle that takes that reading to be a cornerstone of their theology (so it must be translated that way in order to bolster the apparent case for the theological perspective).**

As I say in the sermon, I take Paul’s theological metaphor to convey the point that ‘flesh’ is part of the complex of images that illuminate ‘badness’ in his theological imaginary: death, perishing, flesh, mortality, sin, weakness, and others. Paul reckons that flesh can’t of itself attain godliness, and we can see this play out as flesh ages and withers and ultimately dies. This same flesh also experiences desires that run contrary to what Paul and other Christians take to be a godly way of living: speaking for myself as a cisgendered heterosexual male, I do not always experience inappropriate desire when I encounter every woman (as I presumably would if ‘desire’ were a function of my sinful nature) but only intermittently, as a function of my imperfection. (Sorry if anyone thought I was already perfect, but like St Paul himself, I am not.) On my account, then, ‘sinful nature’ misrepresents both Paul’s thinking and his rhetoric, both of which are preserved by very straightforwardly rendering the Greek word sarx (the Greek behind all this bother) with ‘flesh’.

Anyway, the reader read ‘sinful nature’, I said ‘flesh’, and I don’t think anyone whatsoever in the congregation (other than I) noticed. That’s all just by way of introducing the point that the sermon is enclosed here below the fold.


* I customarily read out the text for the sermon before I invoke God’s threefold Name, then start the sermon after that. Often the text has a very direct bearing on the sermon, but sometimes it’s part of a greater mix, so to speak, and at other times it has only a ‘solve this puzzle’ relationship. This morning, the sermon rests on a number of parts of all three readings, so this one falls into the ‘in a mix’ category.
** I’m bemused by the number of articles, PR statements, and explanations for the successive changes in the NIV that have been deleted over the years — leaving no authoritative record of what the Committee on Biblical Translation or the publishers were doing or thinking. Now the readily available testimony comes only from on-lookers: critics, commentators, kibitzers. If everything were as above-board as one would ordinarily think, why delete pages that refer to a sequence of changes in translation? Conveniently, the Wayback Machine does a sterling job of retrieving what editors, comms officers, PR flacks, and others would want to have erased. Thank you, Wayback Machine!
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End of All Saints Looking At Advent

Last Wednesday (the cold, below-4° day) I preached a homily at the midweek Communion service at St Halen’s. At the time, I thought lightly of it — nothing wrong with it (well, I saw a couple of inconcinnities, but I’m never quite satisfied with my work anyway), but no need to post it online; nobody would miss out on its being not here.

I still feel that way, myself, but yesterday I met a congregant who had very high regard for it, so I felt as though there might be another appreciative reader out there. Anyway, it’s here below the fold. (Yes, that should be ‘26 November’, I’ve gone back to correct it in the original file. Likewise ‘Deeath’.)
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See You In Year A

This morning’s homily went all right, I think; at a certain point people get used to one’s preaching and it becomes harder to calibrate the extent to which they’re responding to this particular sermon as opposed to the extent to which they’re responding to the aggregate of all one’s past sermons.I wasn’t rendered uncomfortable while preaching it, though I’m certain there’s room for clarifying or refining what I will post here (below the fold), so this one probably hits the broad ‘average’ range for my homiletics.
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AKMA at Working Preacher

There’s getting to be quite a volume of my columns at Working Preacher (if you get enough, do you get an honorary degree from Luther Seminary?), and I thought it might be… something, to compile all the links in one place. I think I hadn’t noticed till just now that I’d done 1 Timothy 6:6–19 for them twice.

So here you are:

Commentary on 1 Timothy 1:12-17 — September 12, 2010

Commentary on 1 Timothy 2:1-7 — September 19, 2010

Commentary on 1 Timothy 6:6-19 — September 26, 2010

Commentary on 1 Timothy 6:6-19 — September 25, 2016

Commentary on 2 Timothy 1:1-14 — October 3, 2010

Commentary on 2 Timothy 2:8-15 — October 12, 2025

Commentary on 2 Timothy 3:14—4:5 — October 19, 2025

Commentary on 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18 — October 26, 2025

Commentary on Philemon 1:1-21 — September 7, 2025

Commentary on 1 Peter 2:2-10 — April 20, 2008

Commentary on 1 Peter 3:13-22 — April 27, 2008

Commentary on 1 Peter 4:12-14; 5:6-11 — May 4, 2008

Commentary on James 1:17-27 — August 30, 2015

Commentary on James 2:1-10 [11-13] 14-17 — September 6, 2015

Commentary on James 3:1-12 — September 13, 2009

Commentary on James 3:13—4:3, 7-8a — September 20, 2009

Commentary on James 5:13-20 — September 27, 2009

All Saints Morning

I know, it was yesterday, but the parish observes All Saints on this Sunday, and the rector wasn’t well this morning, so after my run and morning shower, coffee, and fruit, I hastened in to St Nic’s for the 8:00 morning Communion for All Saints Day.

I grabbed a sermon I’d preached before, another that draws on the conceit of John Hollander’s ‘The Widener Burying-Ground’, a touchstone for me, on which I drew several years ago in a longer All Souls sermon at Pusey House. With a few localising editorial steps, it did well for the morning (text below the ‘More’ fold), and now I’m sitting at home with the ladies, working on the conclusion of this evening’s All Souls homily for St Helen’s — which will probably draw obliquely on Yeats’s ‘All Souls Night’, because that’s my magpie imagination.
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Calmer Week?

Looking forward to a somewhat less intense week, I began with a run very close to my recent average. Coffee, fruit, shower, Morning Prayer, and public office hours at R&R, and in a few minutes I’ll go to get a jab at the GP’s surgery. Maybe I’ll finish my MDR today? I should work on the last unfinished article, too.

Oh! I forgot to upload yesterday’s sermon — here it is, below the fold…
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Sunny Day, Deep Breath, and Harvest Sunday

I set out on this morning’s run with a deliberate plan to focus on breathing from my diaphragm, as opposed to the ordinary gasping, panting, upper chest breathing. I don’t know about the long range, of course, nor do I know much about physiology, but it definitely felt as though I was breathing more effectively. I couldn’t do it every breath, but I kept up a pretty good pattern of alternating deep and shallow, or one longer deep breath and two faster shallow breaths. The overall pace of the run was a little below recent average, but it seems as though it’s a better slower.

Coffee and fruit, gave the sermon a once-over edit, cleaned up and hastened to St Michael’s. After the service I picked my way through the set-up phase of the Ock Street Fair for lunch, attention to the dogs, and a bit of unwinding. Oh, and both ears went deaf during the service, so I was ragged from concentrating on hearing, and from hearing my own super amplified voice. I’ll mention this to my GP.

And I’ll include the Harvest sermon below the fold…
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Full Morning

As I suggested, I had a busy time before my coffee pause at Java, having printed handouts for Margaret’s Faith Forum talk on ‘Prayer’, and then presiding and preaching at St Nicolas’s Communion service. I revisit that because I remembered to post today’s Michaelmas homily (below the fold) and this post provides a container (as it were) for the homily. Margaret’s talk, by the way, went fabulously; she’s a great teacher and this is yet another occasion for her to display that gift for appreciative parishioners. Continue reading “Full Morning”

Stalled As Expected

This morning’s run began (as so often) with a half-expectation that I’d just ratchet it down to a walk partway through. I gave it a firm push at the beginning, and wound up not needing to break (although I did raise my rolling average by a bit, since the day I lost from the ‘roll’ was my recent best time). I don’t enjoy all this running even a tiny bit, but I do appreciate the health benefits.

This morning’s sermon went well, even though in this fraught political environment I made the theme ‘hospitality to strangers’. I realised as I preached that my way of addressing charged topics almost always involves weaving them into a richer context, so that I’m not so much haranguing people to welcome migrants as I’m saying, ‘Since this and that, and in keeping with the other, welcoming strangers fits right in with what Jesus teaches about… (or ‘Paul teaches’ or whomever). I know many preachers want to make their single point inescapably clear, so that they focus on justifying their claim and spelling out the consequences; I’m not that preacher, though, since I find that when I preach to possibly-resistant listeners, it helps keep us on the same side if I underscore the extent to which my proposed reading harmonises with a great deal more that they would agree with. In any case, it seems to have gone down well. (Sermon text below the fold.)

Brendan and Rosie came to St Helen’s this morning, bringing the dear, delightful Edith Wren with them. It will be a great treat to live so conveniently near them — and possibly to catch opportunities to visit with Edith while Rosie and Brendan do tedious adult things. Continue reading “Stalled As Expected”

Whoops, Sunday

I just mentioned today’s sermon on BlueSky, so I’d better blog and post it in the unlikely event that someone comes looking.

Morning run felt fine, but was half a minute slower than yesterday’s in continuing proof that I have no body-awareness worth noting. It still erased a slower time on my rolling average, so the five-day average keeps dwindling (though that’s got to stop soon, probably tomorrow).

I had both the 8:00 at St Helen’s and the 11:15 at St Nicolas’s, and the homily went down all right both times.The experience did drive home the extent to which all the different conversations and rites in the parish preclude my settling in and becoming fluently comfortable with any one of them. There are bits of each that draw on muscle- and cognitive-memory, but they’re interrupted by deviations that I can’t settle into anticipating since I only lead this or that service once every three weeks or so. Ah, well, all were well, all were blessed, and several people commented appreciatively. I’ll attach it below the fold, so that a casual blog-visitor doesn’t have to encounter the existence of sermons with their unguarded eyes. Continue reading “Whoops, Sunday”

The Sun Shining

One of my axioms for student preachers is always to remember to preach about death and other hard circumstances in good weather, when things are going smoothly. No one has ears receptive to catechesis when they’re grieving; the time to lay foundations for themes to which you’ll return when needed is at a time when there’s as little stress in the congregation as you’re likely to encounter any time. Some clouds hover over dear brethren at St Helen’s, but this seemed as sunny a Sunday as I was likely to see in the near future, so I undertook a sermon that I deposit as savings against a spiritually rainier day. The sermon itself appears below the fold, as it were.
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