Homily preached on the occcasion of the Secularization of the All Saints Chapel

Vicksburg, MS 
May 30, 2026

What we are about today is a very “churchy” thing.  I have no doubt that, for some who crossed the threshold of Green Hall in it’s 100+ years, the chapel – first on the ground floor of Green Hall and in 1957 constructed and consecrated in it’s current place – this building, this chapel was more than a place of worship although it was certainly that.  It was, for the Saints, a center of the body, a place of solid footing, a place where God could become a familiar companion in our young chaotic lives. We came to All Saints as teenagers.  We sang on the green bus and in the stairwell outside the dining hall till our throats were sore. Each night after study hall, we played bridge, listened to the Beetles, danced to “Sugar Shack” and learned to smoke on the deck of the Playhouse.  When the Playhouse was torn down to make way for the “new dorms” we moved to the Canterbury Room where Ms Wells kept an eye out for Sophomore smokers.   We were divided into two teams – Devils and Angels and we are loyal to our teams to this day.  Whenever we meet the conversation always includes something like… “Do you remember Bostick?…  She lived in 2^nd dorm.  I think she was a Devil.  We made posters for field day and we raked leaves – a lot of leaves when we had workcrew.  At least I raked a lot of leaves…  Downer not so much.  I mean how do you go four years without a demerit.  It boggles the mind….

 
For some this chapel was simply the place where you had to go in order to get in line for supper.  When I walk in here, I don’t see folding chairs and empty spaces.  I see a cruciform arrangement of pews with Ms Dial, Ms Caldwell and Ms Kent strategically placed in the crossing to count the chapel caps of the girls in attendance.  But when something important had happened – something that required more than cheering or clapping – this place – this chapel - was where the Saints gathered.  It was in this place that my classmates and I heard of the assassination of John Kennedy and then heard the Great Litany prayed for the first time.  It was in this place that we learned to chant the Magnificat and the Nunc Dimittis and actually called them that!!!…  It was in this place we sat when controversy or disciplinary matters racked the student body.  It was here that we learned that faith had more to do with how we lived than with what we believed.

Everything about school life blended in this place. I remember one sermon that Fr Jenkins preached on a poem, The Hound of Heaven. We were struggling with it in English class, but he helped us fine the theological implications for our lives in literature.  It was in this place where many of us were confirmed, where I made my first confession.  Where I railed at God for being absent in my time of need… or at least I thought God was absent at the time.  It is in this place where we will sing the All Saints’ Hymn and the Alma Mater one last time.  For administrators, support staff, teachers, coaches, and students this place provided a rhythm for the day.  The bells rang, the choirs sang, the preachers preached, the Saints prayed and God was with and in and about all of it.
 

Our lessons today remind us that even though the Trinity is not mentioned in Holy Scripture the early church was on to something when the theologians began struggling with the intimacy of how God moves in and about our lives with the mystery of God becoming one with us in Jesus,  of how we participate in the creation with God.  Here in this place we claimed our part in what Richard Rohr called the Divine Dance of the Trinity. 

For those of us who attended All Saints and then stood here when our school closed – we have been grieving for almost 20 years.  For those who trained here or worked here as Americorps, that closing of the school offered an opportunity to join with the Saints community for a common mission of making the world a better place in which to live.    But no matter if you are a long time Episcopalian in Vicksburg who remembers baccalaureate services at Trinity, or if you were a young man courting the “girls” in the parlor of Green Hall, a former teacher or administrator, or someone who experienced residential living and studying and worshipping here…  We are all of us saddened that what was, will not continue in the future.  Me too!  I am profoundly saddened that All Saints will not stand here.  But if that is where we remain when we leave this place then we will have missed out on what it was that we learned and experienced here. 
 
There is a traditional Irish Funeral Poem called Remembered Joy.  While the poem itself is definitely not a work of Yeats or Joyce or Heaney, it expresses a hope that I think we can carry away from this place.  We were formed here to be strong, intelligent, hard-working adults and taught that if we studied and worked together then one day we would walk down the steps of the Dell carrying roses and receive the diploma that I suspect every Saint still treasures.  The middle of that Irish poem goes like this
I could not stay another day,
To love, to laugh, to work or play;
Tasks left undone must stay that way.
And if my parting has left a void,
Then fill it with remembered joy.

Remembered Joy encourages us to stay in touch, to continue to tell our stories, to let the laughter that rings thru the Dell continue to lift us up and call us to gather and to remember.  Remembered Joy reminds us that neither grief nor joy is ours alone – sorrow at loss and happiness at the possibility of new life tomorrow are not mutually exclusive.  It would be a disservice to this chapel for us to go from this place dwelling on loss and ignoring the hope for the future and the fertile field of young lives that our experiences here might inspire and enrich.  The final chapter for All Saints will not be written here unless we forget our responsibility to pass on the teachings we received and miss the opportunity to pass those teachings on the next generation.   
In this chapel we were taught that God walks with us and that there is no obstacle on earth that can stop our progress because God is with us in our work.  So this morning I want to challenge us to not let what we learned here be lost here. 

Bishop, I know that the weight of this responsibility is heavy for you.  I want you to know that the Saints have got your back.  The value of this place is not in the building – it is in the people who came to know God in this building and it is in the traditions learned here – honesty, integrity, excellence in academics, the importance of community, the expanse of the love of God for each and every one of us.  This morning I challenge all the Saints to use the skills, ideas, hopes, dreams, and ambitions we gained here to inspire the quest for academic excellence in a new generation of learners.  To manifest the ability to reason and to imagine beyond ourselves, to make sacrifices so that those who come after us will have a bright future.  I challenge the four dioceses represented in this institution to commit to continuing the legacy of forming thoughtful, honorable, faithful young adults from whatever resources our school might yield.  

In Ms Turner’s book called “For All the Saints” several of the rectors wrote tributes.  The Most Rev John M Allin wrote: “In time and space no human record can be complete, no human measure absolutely accurate.  There is more to the potential of any human being, more to the history of an institution than can be in one place recorded.  There is more to life than can be told, which means there is always room and place for a new entry, a bright reflection , especially when there is a bright well-placed reflector, and worthwhile life experiences about which to tell.”
 

My fellow Saints we are to be that well-placed reflector.  We are to engage in that “Divine Dance”.  We are to go from this place fed by Christ and loved by God to remember the joy we shared and to tell our stories to all we meet. 
“For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven”
Today is not a time for what might have beens or I wish we hads, or isn’t it a shame.  Today is a time for Remembered Joy.  Because here in this place, in this chapel we encountered God in scripture and in song and in prayer.  Amen

Acension Sunday - Remembering Joy and Looking the Wrong Way

 I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that for much of our Christian understanding and belief - the Resurrection is the culmination of the Gospel story.  Today I want to make a case for an alternative ending.  Well ending is not exactly the right word.  Let’s use gateway or threshold.  Because the story of Jesus’ ministry does not end with the resurrection.

Our lesson from Acts is actually the lesson from Last Thursday which was the Feast of the Ascension.  The BCP folks believe these readings to be so important that the rubrics allow them to be read on the Sunday following so that more people will have the opportunity to hear them than might be present in a weekday service.  In this story from Acts Jesus ascends into the heavens.  But first he tells the disciples that they are to anticipate the coming of the Holy Spirit.  Then after instructing them that they will be witnesses for him, Jesus is taken up into heaven.  The disciples stand there gawking – totally distracted from the work Jesus had just asked them to do.  Two angels appear and question them saying essentially (what are you looking that way for…  pay attention!  you have work to do here….  Luke tells us that Jesus, patient as ever with their incessant questions and doubts, reassures them that whatever goods they need for the journey God will provide for them and that they will indeed find their voices and speak with authority about the power of God to redeem the world.   They close their mouths and set their feet to Jerusalem.  They return to the work that Jesus had given them to do- they began the work of teaching the Good News.  They continue the story…..

Ascension Day marks the end of the time of post resurrection encounters with Jesus.  Ascension is a sort of interim period – a transition time – between the promises that Jesus makes to the disciples and fulfillment of those promises.  It marks the end of Jesus’ time on earth and it heralds the coming time of ministry for the church.  The two - God’s incarnation in Jesus and God’s mission through the Body of Christ - are inseparable.   Without Jesus and Resurrection there would be no Good News to spread and without the Spirit-filled passion of the early followers we would not have a means to carry out God’s mission in the world.  The angels that appear to the disciples at the time of the Ascension call them to live faithful and obedient lives and to remember that the wonder of God’s love and presence revealed so radically in the cross and the open tomb still has in store fresh surprises of joy. The disciples of Christ are called to witness, little realizing how the Spirit lurks to transform all that they do into magnificent occasions for the outpouring of God’s love. And so in this manner Ascension points to Pentecost and to all the marvelous ways that Holy Spirit fills us with love and passion for God.

Whenever I read the story of the Ascension I am reminded of the first church in which I served as a deacon…

St Stephen’s was built in 1869.  It is a huge neo-gothic structure with massive Tiffany stained glass windows, a tryptic of St Stephen in the back and on either side of the sanctuary the Annunciation and the Ascension.  Unfortunately the building had begun to leak just a few years after it was built.  In fact there was so much moisture that the walls which were constructed of cement blocks had become dingy and worn.  In 1910 the vestry decided to paint the walls white to make them bright again.  That fateful decision led to moisture buildup behind the paint which for the next 100 years slowly caused the blocks to crumble.  By the time I arrived the paint hung limply from the walls and vaulted ceilings.  15 million in deferred maintenance.  And we think we have problems….   

One Sunday at the 8 AM service I saw Anthony, a parishioner who had some learning struggles, kneeling in preparation for the Mass.  Since I knew that occasionally he could become distracted and wander up to the altar during the service, I decided to join him in the pew.  As we knelt there together I looked around at the dilapidated walls and thought what a sad predicament and how ugly the walls looked.  Anthony was quiet for a long time and then he leaned over to me and whispered, “Aren’t the windows beautiful”  Ya gotta wonder who was the one who was distracted when God’s wonder and beauty called to us in that place.

The arrangement of the windows at St Stephen’s – cradling our worship and renewal in that period of time when Jesus walked among us on earth, calls us to leave the place of sanctuary and move into the world outside of our church as servants of God.  And that call is for me a tangible expression of what it means to be a Christian in today’s world.   We make a mistake if we do not realize that everything we do – everything about our lives is about responding to our call to serve God.  

Our calling as Christians is to heal and transform the world – this world.  The temptation for the disciples -and for us - is  to gaze longingly at the heavens, and forget that Jesus sends us back to our own places is to live faithfully in this life as God’s partners in healing the sore places of the world.  

There are a lot of things that distract us just as I was distracted that morning sitting in the pew with Anthony.  Whatever the distraction is, when we ignore our responsibility to witness to God’s love in everything we do – from home to church to workplace to neighborhood we are like the disciples who stood looking the wrong way.  But when we are present to the day, when we allow ourselves to be cradled in this wonderful faithful community of God’s people and to be empowered and guided by the Spirit that is moving among us – here and now – that is when we make a difference. 

 ‘the Power behind us is greater than the task in front of us.”- thank you Bishop Barbara… 

The Road to Emmaus 2026

 I have to admit right off that this is one of my favorite Gospel stories.  I identify with it, I suspect you do, and I believe that church has a lesson to learn here also.  So forgive me if I have brought it up in sermons, Bible studies, and in newsletter reflections.  And yet every time I encounter the road to Emmaus I find something – some insight – that I had not seen before.

Emmaus is seven miles from Jerusalem….. – 22 minutes by car.  But these guys were not driving.  They were walking - and probably slowly - as their world had just fallen apart.  They were in the midst of despair, not knowing to whom to where or to what they might turn.  How long is the road of broken dreams...

Two Israelites, one named Cleopas and the other … was he or she a friend? Wife? Father/mother?  We don’t know…  We do know that they were walking alone, having little purpose left.  From the sound of it, I would say that they were headed back home.  The euphoria was gone, the  revolution had been quelled, there was nothing left to do, but to trash the signs, post the pictures on Facebook, go back home and get back to work.

And then a man approaches and walks with them.  They have no idea who he is.  As they walk he asks them about their conversation and they sort of freeze.  First of all they did not see him coming and second of all they could not be sure if he was one of them or one of the other guys.  Is talking to this stranger going to identify us with the guy they just executed?  Kind of like how much can I post on FB without getting trolled by the guys in the other opinion camp.  All of this and more had to be swirling in their minds.  They were staring deeply into God’s eyes and yet not knowing that it was God. 

As Jesus approached Luke tells us they did not recognize him.  Have you ever encountered one of those moments when someone comes up to you and there is something familiar about the person, but not for nothing you have no idea who it is or where you met him or her.  It happens to me a lot and it seems to be happening more often, but that’s another story.  Or have you ever been in a situation where something unexpected happens and you are just not sure what has happened to you.  When your perspective on life is challenged by some stranger - and you know that you are standing at a point of intersection – do I listen to God speaking to my heart or do I run with the herd – hearing only the voice of a broken world.

Once Cleopus and his buddy recover they seem incredulous.   They almost seem to mock the stranger..  “Are you the only clueless person around.  Have you been living in a barn?  Don’t you know that the one person who had given us hope and energy has been executed.  Those arrogant, two-timing temple (expletive deleted) temple leaders deleted ratted him out and turned him over to the Romans – who murdered him in plain sight.  Jesus doesn’t chide or become defensive – he simply tells them about who they are, how they are loved and cared for by God, and what God has done to intervene in their lives.  Then he moves away as if to continue on without them.  And that is the first message that I think this story holds for us.  Jesus walks away from their rant without attacking.  God’s love for us does not hold us hostage – rather God invites us into the surety of Grace and promises us that we are never alone on our journey if we choose to walk with Jesus.

But these two travelers want to know more and so they ask Jesus to stay.  And then at Table Jesus takes, blesses, breaks, and gives the bread and they become aware of God’s presence with them.  And that’s the second message here…  It is in the breaking of the bread, the sharing of gifts, the welcome of the Table that God is made known to us.  They have come to understanding, to knowing and the physical manifestation is no longer necessary for them to hold onto their faith.  God has offered life, they have accepted, and the awareness of their own burning desire for God overwhelms them.  Jesus is no longer physically in their presence, but the burning in their hearts remains.

And the third for me…  It is that same burning desire that gives voice to Peter as he speaks to the Israelites in Jerusalem.  His passion is not rooted in anger, or fear, of a need for revenge or condemnation.  Peter’s passion comes from his own experience of having been forgiven by God for his betrayal of his friend and teacher.  Peter just like the rabbi in my newsletter story, knows what it means to have raw human emotions of hatred, terror, and guilt swirl about in his heart and he knows intimately the healing power of God’s love.  And he wants desperately to share it with his kin.  Christ is not about assigning blame or seeking retribution.  Christ is about helping, loving, and reconciling.

Our world in in chaos right now.  Opinions and feelings are running higher and carry more venom than I can ever remember.  Dennis Hollinger, president of Gordan Conwell University in MA was quoted after 9/11 as saying “Emotions are good gifts from God, but they must always be tempered by virtues of justice, goodness, and wisdom,  Otherwise we begin to mirror the very acts we deplore.’’  I fear we have become our nightmare.

I am appalled by the rhetoric and the hateful accusations and threats, the images in my newsfeeds.  My country has been engaged in war for almost all of my life and long before I was born.  I haven’t counted, but I suspect in our 250 year history we have been at war more years than in peace.  I know that sometimes standing up to oppression, injustice, and aggression is necessary.  I support the thousands of police, fire-fighters, emergency personnel whose job it is to protect the public.  I am grateful for our military for standing in the way of danger, so that I do not have to see my house destroyed or my children blown to bits or my country decimated.   But when I see, hear or read the news… that’s not what I see happening – just the opposite.  Remember Pogo…  “We have met the enemy and he is us”  Peter says that we are to repent and be baptized…  live into our promises that we made – respect, care for, understand, learn, be in community and in the face of our failures - we are cut to the heart. 

Not easy to stand in the middle of the road and say “You know I don’t think God is cheering the loss of even the most evil of creation.  I don’t think God sees this as a win win or a win lose.  Rather I think God is mourning the brokenness of all our lives and calling to us to be aware of the burning in our hearts.

Last week Laureli talked about encountering Jesus.  Yes – that’s it isn’t it.  Just like Cleopus and his friend, we need to encounter Jesus in order to see God’s presence in our lives.  Those encounters - when Jesus becomes known – are about making sense of all this jumble of experiences in our lives, about sorting through the black the white and the gray areas where we stumble and making the path a little clearer for our journeys and it is about distinguishing between the right road and the wrong road.  About choosing death or life.

It is in the breaking of the bread that Jesus is revealed.  It is in the brokenness of our lives that our lives are made whole.

We are each on the road to Emmaus. Each of us nursing wounds and wandering through disappointments.  Jesus meets each one of us there – loves us – gives us an opportunity to be transformed by love.  And each of us must discern when and where we are to go in response.

Amen 

Alleluia Christ is Risen

        

Easter Sunday morning is a good day for a preacher to look out over the congregation and wonder what it is that has drawn these people here because surely if I can figure out what has gotten you out of bed and brought you to church then I can be confident that all of you will return.  Right?  Hmmm  But then is that really what we are about today?    Today is by far the day when the most people who are drawn to Christian faith show up in church.  What is it that makes us do that?  Maybe you know the answer and maybe not. 

Is it because you are always here on Sunday morning?Is it because there is something difficult going on in your life and you feel a need to be reassured of God’s love for youIs it because you have been told all your life that if you do not go to church at least on Christmas and Easter that you will surely go straight to Hell and so you get up and come out of obedience to some distant ethereal father figure.Is it because you got up this morning and felt a strange warming in your heart that you had not felt in many years, but which you knew to be God’s call to you to come.  

       You know each of these reasons is – at least in my opinion a good and valid reason for coming.  I especially like the one about obedience as that is the one I always used on my children. 

      Maybe you are not really sure why you made the effort to get out of a perfectly good bed this morning, rushed to get everyone ready, left a long lingering breakfast, skipped the NYT puzzles, and headed out to church.  I am not always sure why I come either but what I do know is this.  Easter is about far more than habit, obedience, or the promise of life eternal up in the clouds.

   Easter presents us with a whole new reality of what the world is like.  Easter pulls us out and up because it is the most amazing proclamation of all time.  It is at once mysterious and utterly transparent.  The Gospel lessons leave no doubt in the reality of the crucifixion, the death of Jesus and of the empty tomb.  The Easter lessons do not really need a commentary by any preacher.  It is the story of new life in Christ that we come to hear on Easter morning

    But if we end it there then I believe with all my heart that we will have missed the boat because Easter is not about one day out of the year.  Easter is about one day after another – about day in and day out living into the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  It is who we are – it is our nature – it is our baptism – it is our life.

    It is my experience in life that God is most known in the silence of a walk in the woods, in the home where children run around in their diapers playing with Mom and Dad who must work every day but Sunday just to feed and house the family.  God is found on the golf course with friends, God is found in the work of one who must go to care for an aging relative each morning. God is found wherever we open ourselves up enough to be aware of God’s presence in our lives.  And each one of these ways in which we grow to know God better is both valid and vital in our lives – I know this because I have known God in these places too.  Who am I to hinder God when God meets you or me outside the walls of this church?

    But there is another equally valid truth.  We also meet God here.  God invites us here to be in community, to learn and to grow together.   Scripture tells us that the women who ran from the tomb in awe and amazement and fear of the reality of God’s action in raising Jesus from the dead, grew to be powerful voices of the Good News, they came to be disciples who carried the Word to others in proclamation and deed.  They were able to do so because the Spirit moved through that early community of believers and gave them a passion, an urgency, and a hope that God was indeed supreme over the forces of evil and death in the world and that they were empowered to be the emissaries of that Good News.

    In our epistle Peter says: “I truly understand that whoever you are, wherever you come from, whatever your life has been like…  God is your creator, God loves you, and God wants your love in return.”  In the end he spoke truth to the power magnates and he welcomed children and women and tax collectors and lepers to his circle of friends.  He taught about forgiving others as God forgives us and he healed those who were sick

    That’s not the whole story though.  Peter gave a wonderful sermon, but it was after the sermon was preached that the real change happened.  The Holy Spirit moved among those folks and all who saw it were amazed.  Through the willingness of Peter to tell these people, whom he had never met, about his experience of knowing Jesus, they too came to know Jesus in a very special and personal way – and their lives were changed too.

    God’s Spirit is moving mightily among the people of St Patrick’s.  I see it in the work of those who give their time to work in the garden or prepare coffee hour or make our worship space beautiful, or create knitted tree ornaments for Christmas, fill the blessing box, clean the bathrooms, protest on the street for those who are afraid or unable to do so.  Sing, preach, set the Table, visit the sick, all the things…..  And goodness knows there is so much more….   I see God’s Spirit come alive in the faces of those who have been hurt by our society or even by our friends and family and find a home in this place – I see it in the face of those who seek to know deeply the forgiveness and the acceptance of God. 

    For sure you do not have to be in this space to be in the presence of God, but it can be a powerful experience of God’s action in this world.  Each time you come and kneel before this altar you are supporting those who support you and you are filled with the power of the Holy Spirit through the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. That is an experience like none other in this world. 

    The resurrection that we proclaim today throws open the doors of Love and Grace to all who seek to know God or to be known by God. 

    This is the day that we, as a community of faith, proclaim our hope in eternal life because this is the day that God proclaims that we are all God’s chosen, God’s beloved, God’s desired.  This is the day for us to go from this place and to ask ourselves:

What door is God opening for me?

What new experience does God have in store for me?

Who is God asking me to stand beside?

How can I be helpful in finding new and different ways for all of God’s beloved to find a home at this altar?

    Each and every Sunday is an opportunity to celebrate the resurrection of Christ.  It is my desire – my hope – that each one of us will celebrate that Good News each and every day not only with our lips but in our lives, giving up ourselves – our souls and bodies - to God’s service in the world. Let the church say  AMEN

 n

Ash Wednesday - The Day After

 

If you had not realized that you were in Lent, you most certainly will realize it on Sunday morning. The haunting images that surround our lessons are a surreal reminder of those words spoken yesterday, “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return”, are true to the core. Ash Wednesday is the day when we name our mortality, when we acknowledge that we are creatures who are susceptible to the ways and wiles of the world and who succumb to their clarion call each and every day that we live. Ash Wednesday begins our sacred journey to the empty tomb.

Lent is a time for us to remember that like Adam and Eve, we are naked before God. It is a time for us to be aware of the voices that swirl around us—the voices of doubt, shame, anger, hate, blaming, disapproval, or condemnation and then to name them for what they are… temptations that draw us away from the words of our baptism, “You are marked as Christ’s own, the Beloved of God forever”.  We remove the masks of Mardi Gras to make way for the ashes of Lent. Without our masks—made of our desire for position, wealth, and power, we stand in our birthday clothes of vulnerability, humility, and gratitude—walking the Way with Christ.

So we begin this season of Lent with Jesus being led by the spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. In the typical fashion of Matthew there are more parallels in this story than we can count. It parallels the forty years of the Israelites sojourn in the desert. The language of purpose, “to be tempted”, parallels the purposeful language just before—“to be baptized”. The use of the temptations as a symbolic sort of overview of Jesus’ life—an overview meant to prove that he is the Son of God—is paralleled by the stories that mark Jesus’ ministry throughout the gospel. “Turn this stone into bread”, “ask God to protect you”, “worship the world”, says the tempter. All of the taunts are meant to challenge or to trap him to give some sort of a sign that he is God’s son. Questions designed to trap him into blasphemy. 

Like Jesus, we live with temptation each and every day of our lives. When we feel the world condemning us, telling us what we should or should not do or say or worship, we are tempted to take the easy way out—building ourselves up at the expense of another—tearing down my friend or relative’s worth so that I might feel more powerful myself. Just as Jesus was tempted, we are tempted too.

So on this first full day, I invite you into a Holy Lent. One where the temptations we know all too well do not determine the person we are, but are named and considered and put aside to make way for God’s love and mercy and acceptance. Blessed Lent to all…

Buen Camino,

Mother Jane

Image attribution: Tissot, James, 1836-1902. Jesus Carried up to a Pinnacle of the Temple, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=54302 [retrieved February 17, 2026]. Original source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Brooklyn_Museum_-_Jesus_Carried_up_to_a_Pinnacle_of_the_Temple_(J%C3%A9sus_port%C3%A9_sur_le_pinacle_du_Temple)_-_James_Tissot_-_overall.jpg.

A sermon on the Psalms???

 

We shall not, we shall not be moved, (2x)

Just like a tree that's planted by the water
We shall not be moved

We're young and old together, we shall not be moved, (2x)
Just like a tree that's planted by the water
We shall not be moved

We shall not, we shall not be moved, (2x)
Just like a tree that's planted by the water
We shall not be moved

 We're black and white together we shall not be moved, (2x)

Just like a tree that's standing by the water
We shall not be moved

yes, straight and gay together we shall not be moved, (2x)
Just like a tree that's planted by the water
We shall not be moved

We shall not be moved is one of those classic American Folk Hymns that grew out of the experience of American slavery and became a cornerstone of the Civil Rights movement.  Sadly we are being forced to sing it again on the streets of cities across the country and notably in Minneapolis.  There are tons of verses to fit every cause.  But what it really grew out of is this Psalm we read today.  “ It is well with those who deal generously and lend,     who conduct their affairs with justice.
⁶ For the righteous will never be moved;
    they will be remembered forever..” 

I want to spend some time with this Psalm today and take a look at why I think it is the crux of the messages we hear today in our lessons.

Above all the Psalms are a rich source of praise, confession, intercession, petition, and thanksgiving.  If we were in Sunday School I would mention that those are the five fingers of prayer….  Petition, confession, intercession, thanksgiving and praise.  That’s one of those core learnings for confirmation class….  Five fingered prayers….  Petition, confession, intercession, thanksgiving and praise.  But I digress.

The Psalms reach down into the depths of human experience and give words to those things that we struggle to articulate.  The psalms open up our hearts to release the fear and anger we feel and to encourage us to embrace God’s love and wonder.  Sadly though I do not believe that our culture speaks the language of the faithful any longer.  In a world where social norms and decency have been catapulted into oblivion by bullying, petty insults, obscenities, and bald-faced lies by people in authority - the Psalms ground us once again in the ways that God desires us to treat our neighbors – no exceptions.   They affirm our notion that we are indeed created in God’s image and destined to be in relationship with God and each other.

  Psalm 112 is classified as a wisdom psalm.  Similar in tone to the Book or Proverbs or Job.  Our translation does not do it justice as in Hebrew (so my reference manual tells me…..) the verses are acrostic, meaning the first letter of each line proceeds in sequence in the Hebrew alphabet.  Scholars believe that was intended to make the psalm easier to memorize.  The overall tone projects a world in which those who obey God’s commandments are happy, while those who do not are pretty miserable. 

After the initial Hallelujah Psalm 112 falls into three distinct sessions.  The first section vv 1-3 opens with how happy the followers of God are and the blessings they receive, the second vv 4-6 tells us that the faithful not only walk in God’s light but they also spread light during periods of darkness.  And v 6 in particular hearkens to our protest song…  “For the righteous will never be moved;
    they will be remembered forever”.   The final section vv 7-9 sums up the prosperity of those who are faithful sort of states the qualifications for the person.  It is the longest section and has a call and response pattern of things you should do and things you should not do.  They are not afraid, they will prevail in the end, their faithfulness will be remembered.  ….The drive here for me and I think for protest movements over the years is that there is hope even when it seems as though the oppressor is insurmountable.  We shall not, We shall not be moved….  I am reminded of Dr King’s statement of hope in the face of injustice and oppression….  “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice," 

Now I suppose that one might read this Psalm and decide that it is unrealistic given our world today and so why try.  The Greek historian Thucydides writing about the Peloponnesian War coined the phrase “The strong do what they can and the weak suffer what they must.  There is not much hope in that statement but given the headlines these days it is hard to argue with Thucydides

Instead of speaking the truth from the heart we are daily confronted with “alternative facts”.  Today people are being singled out, ridiculed, and mistreated because of the color of their skin, the language they speak, the faith they profess, or the person they choose to love.  And when we try to invoke Micah’s call to humility, kindness, and justice that we heard last Sunday, we are dismissed as tree-hugging, elitist nutjobs.  The notion of sharing the affluence in this country is not even in the conversation.  It would be easy to simply throw up my hands and give up trying.  But you know…  that is exactly why in our baptismal covenant our response to the questions asked is “I will with God’s help”  Not I will….  But I will with God’s help.  You see as members of the Body of Christ we hope and we believe that with God all things are possible. 

Given the tenor of the Psalms, I think this psalm actually expresses an unquenchable desire to be part of a community where people are generous, where justice matters, where together we shed light in the dark places - with blessing boxes, with beautiful music, with kind words of greeting, and where all are welcomed at the Table.  Even as we know that such generosity, such perfection is unattainable, we deeply desire to keep trying and we hold fast to the hope that God’s forgiveness recognizes that we are fallible and God loves us anyway.  That is the crazy foolishness that Paul is talking about – even as we fall flat on our faces we know that God has already interceded on our behalf and that God also desires deeply to be in relationship with us.  And furthermore Paul tells us, when we are in relationship with God we do so through the mind of Christ.

We don’t often hear the psalms preached – at least not from me.  That’s kind of sad actually, because there are not very many volumes of poetry or prose that strike more deeply at the fears, frustrations, anger, joy, and love that are common to all of us than do these songs of David.  Ancient, penetrating, truth-telling, hopeful, confident…  the psalms are all of these things.

Paired with Isaiah and Paul and Jesus we have a daunting challenge and a profound hope.  The daunting challenge is that scripture is pretty direct in telling us how we are to live our lives.  We are to break the yoke of the oppressor, we are to share our bread with the hungry, we are to be… light and salt to a hurting and hungry world.  Isaiah, the Psalm, Paul and Jesus are really clear that we are not to be onlookers only = we are to be involved implementors in the Kingdom of God.  And the profound hope is that all of this is a done deal because God (Jesus and Holy Spirit) have got our backs.    Just like a tree that's planted by the water
We shall not be moved….. The prophet Isaiah assures us:

“Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;
you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;

you shall be called the repairer of the breach,
the restorer of streets to live in.”  Is 58:12

that’s a promise we can take to the bank.  Amen

Finding safety in a hanging basket

         Late one December evening I was getting my outdoor plants ready for an expected freeze.  I carried some into the storage room off my patio and did a marginal job of wrapping the climbing plants.  The last one was a hanging basket with a three year old variegated ivy sort of plant that hangs in front of my kitchen window.  Just to say up front that I am not the best tender of plants.  Anyway I reached up to lift it off the hook and was surprised when a flurry of feathers came out of the plant and whisked by my head.  To say that I was surprised is an understatement.  I almost dropped the whole thing.  When I came back to my senses I realized that two small birds had settled themselves in what they thought was a safe place to roost.  In the center of the basket was a hollowed out little hole just the size for two smalls birds wanting to get out of the wind and rest for the night.  My immediate reactions were sadness and guilt that I had gotten in the way of their plans and had dashed their hope for safety.  So when I sat down to give body to a reflection on this terror driven story, told by Matthew, - I identified with Herod – For those two little birds I was the despotic ruler destroying the illusion of safety in a hanging basket and forcing the avian interlopers into exile.

Now we are nearing the end of the Christmas season.  For most Americans at least - the Christmas tree is already at the curb waiting for pickup and the ornaments are packed away in the attic.  Football dominates the TV and around here our attention is fast shifting to Mardi Gras parades.  Matthew does not want us to go there just yet though.  We want to continue with the warm and fuzzy feelings with shepherds and angels and Mary and Joseph doting over their baby son.  But instead we hear a hair-raising story of fear, deceit, escape, and murder.    

For today the wise guys are still on the road.  But between now and Epiphany on Tuesday  the royal entourage from the East will divulge the location of the newly born “king” that Herod fears, shower the baby with gifts and then, warned by an angel, sneak out of Bethlehem to avoid Herod.  Herod then, in his anger, orders that all recently born male children in Bethlehem be killed.  Joseph, unaware of Herod’s threat, is again visited by an angel in a dream telling him to run for his family’s life.  So he packs the donkey and flees to Egypt.  The Holy family remain there until Herod himself dies.  And once again he is visited by an angel who tells him that it is safe to return home, but now Herod’s son is in power and joseph knows that his son will not be safe.  Matthew tells us that Joseph, Mary and Jesus make a third journey to Nazareth where tradition has it that he opened a carpentry shop and raised his family.  While the birth in a stable and the angelic chorus singing to the shepherds in Luke is a lovely story – Matthew 2  makes for a gritty – disturbing tale that, if nothing else, on this second Sunday in Christmas 2026 is much more realistic, more believable and relatable to the world in which we live today.  Luke makes for a great candlelight service – but Matthew is as raw as the news on the TV.

I say it seems more realistic to me because everything I know about the teachings and works of the grown up Jesus confirm that this birth in a backwater town in Judah did really did upset the social and religious order of Judah under Roman rule.  Jesus came preaching peace, justice, love, diversity, equity, sacrificial service, and inclusion.  If I had been a Roman puppet governor back then I would have been frightened for the future of my own power and wealth.  Jesus taught love and generosity and faithfulness to God  He gave the oppressed hope.

Herod didn’t do anything other than that which any other despotic ruler would have done in first century Roman Empire.   And Joseph did what any parent today would do – he left everything the family owned behind and set out for a foreign land that seemed to offer relative safety for his family. In Matthew’s account Joseph had been warned but God’s angel and so he fled through the desert and over mountains to cross the Nile River and make a new home for his family.

Today standing here it occurs to me that this story might very well be at least equally important as the Christmas story we read on Christmas Eve.  Granted that Matthew loves to cherry pick prophetic visions that “prove” who Jesus was – visions like a ruler coming from Bethlehem, Rachel weeping for her children, and the Messiah being called a Nazorean.  But this story is so realistic and so important because it’s happening right now.  Not only in far off lands – third world countries – it’s happening right here in our own country in 2026.  And it’s not a new thing. 

The last 2000+ years of history have known millions of people called “illegal” because they tried to escape starvation or persecution, or oppression with only the clothes on their backs.  Were it not for Gaza, Tibet, Myanmar, Syria, Afghanistan, South Africa, Honduras, and oh so many more this story in Matthew might seem far-fetched, but in truth it is reality for millions today. A quick google search finds that as of mid-2025, over 117 million people are forcibly displaced globally, marking the highest global displacement levels on record.  Images of boats capsizing in the Mediterranean or in the Caribbean, refugees being incarcerated and deported, ill equipped refugee camps and missiles destroying access to food, water, and healthcare – these are the things that bring sorrow and despair to our world. 

I think that just maybe that is exactly why Matthew tells this story in all it’s gruesome detail.  Matthew wants to let us know even in the face of all this suffering that in Jesus - God does draw near to us.  This story is so realistic because Matthew knew better than most of the Gospel writers that because in Jesus God assumes our mortality, God suffers right along with us.  In his lifetime Jesus knew what it meant to be unhoused, to be poor, to be persecuted, to fear, to be disappointed, to be violently assaulted and to die at the hands of fear and hate.  And Jesus knew what it means to love as God loves.

You know this world in which we live is in many ways a beautiful place and there is often love and kindness peaking through the cracks of our lives bringing joy, and love and hope to us – and God is at the center of that too.  Just as God was with Mary and Joseph and Jesus as they fled persecution – God was also with them as they settled in Nazareth and went about the business of reading Torah in the Temple, performing mitsvahs, sitting shiva, playing with friends, going to weddings.  God is with us in all of those things too – comforting us, bringing us hope and love.  Paul tells us in his letter to the church in Rome that nothing…  nothing can separate us from the love of God.  That’s why this story is so important.  No fearful king, no powerful conqueror, no disease, no earthly calamity – nothing can ever separate us from God’s love as we know it in Jesus Christ.

So the next time someone steals your hanging basket that you thought was going to be a safe place to sleep – be like the little birds in my yard - don’t lose hope.  Don’t be afraid to fly to another tree, because God has provided lots of bushes and trees in the yard where you can seek refuge.  In the face of all that tries to sap our hope, I ask that you not let despair or anger poison your hope - for you and for your children.  Christ’s Peace that we offer each time we share the Eucharist is about freedom from the fear, hatred, and oppression that limits our love and our life.  God’s shalom is bigger than that.  God’s Shalom opens the way for all to be free to love and to live.  It opens the way for Peace on Earth and goodwill for all. 

Former Presiding Bishop, Michael Curry, closed one of his Christmas messages with this:

“It’s not an accident that long ago, followers of Jesus began to commemorate his birth, his coming into the world. When the world seemed darkest. When hope seemed to be dashed on the altar of reality. It is not an accident that we too, commemorate his coming, when things do not always look right in this world.

But there is a God. And there is Jesus. And even in the darkest night. That light once shined and will shine still.  His way of love is the way of life. It is the light of the world. And the light of that love shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not, cannot, and will not overcome it.”