Paula, a little over four years ago, we gathered in the Nave of the Church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields to ordain you a Priest. Because of the pandemic, only a handful of worshipers were present. I had the honor of serving as Preacher for that service. I’ll never forget the neck-snapping reaction of Bishop Mayer when I cited Jerry Garcia’s summary of the feelings just about everyone God has ever called. Jerry said, “Somebody has to do something. It is a pathetic thing that it has to be us.”

 

That sermon was mostly about your vocation and the work of a Priest. Today, since you have again honored me again and invited me to preach, I want to take that thought to another level and focus on the ministry you share with those given into your care. The readings appointed for the celebration of your ministry as Vicar of St. Christopher’s call for that.

 

In the record of God’s Commission to Joshua, his adherence to God’s call and God’s ways are intended to advance God’s purpose for God’s people as they prepare to enter a new era in a new land with a new leader. It should not surprise us that God chose Joshua to succeed Moses. When God commanded Moses to enter the promised land, Moses sent out 12 spies on a recognizance mission. When the spies returned, ten of them reported that the land was indeed fruitful but that the people were big and strong, and their cities were well fortified. Joshua and Caleb gave the minority report and urged the people to do as God had commanded. The people said the report of the ten had discouraged their hearts. Moses bent to the people’s lack of faith and faltered in his leadership. As a result, Moses and an entire generation wandered in the wilderness until they died. Of that generation, only Joshua and Caleb were allowed to enter the promise. And God called Joshua to lead them when the time came.

 

God’s call to Joshua was not to be a nice guy. God’s call to Joshua was a lead the people. For that purpose and for the sake of the people, God equipped and commissioned Joshua. The same God still has a purpose for us and this particular people has a Vicar whom God has equipped and commissioned to lead them in God’s mission. It may be a pathetic thing that it has to be you, Paula, but today we whole-heartedly agree with God that it is you. So, “Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”

 

In his letter to the Ephesians, St. Paul expands upon the work of the leader of a faith community. He writes, “The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ. (Ephesians 4:11-12)” Sadly for the Church, some of our colleagues and some of our laity think the leader’s role is to do the work of ministry themselves rather than to equip the saints to do it. It’s also sad for the clergy who understand their role in that way because they miss the joy of seeing the fruit born of the collaborative labor of God’s Spirit-filled people.


For me, that has been the greatest reward of ordained ministry. Sometimes, I feel like John Hannibal Smith, the character played by George Peppard in the TV series The A-Team. The series ran for 98 episodes in five seasons. In every episode, toward the completion of their mission, Hannibal would chomp down on his cigar, look into the camera, and say, “I love it when a plan comes together.” I do! I love it when, with a little bit or a lot of guidance from me, the People of God develop a plan, execute the plan, and experience the satisfaction of seeing it come together for the glory of God and the sake of those who need it. It is especially gratifying when everybody knows going into it that we’re not entirely sure we have what it takes to accomplish what God is calling us to do. Like in the Baptismal Covenant when we are asked, “Will you…” and the answer is not, “Yes” but instead, “I will, with God’s help.” After all, God never calls us to do holy work by ourselves. It may be a pathetic thing that it has to be you and the people of St. Christopher’s, Paula, but today we whole-heartedly agree with God that it is. So, “Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”

 

According to the teachings of our Church, there is no such thing as a solitary Christian. God’s primary call is to faithful living in communion with others. We are on a journey and a journey is always better when it is shared with others. As we travel together, we grow in our experience of God. We learn to trust God. We learn to be loved by God and thus to love others whom God loves. Perhaps that is why St. Christopher’s logo includes the invitation, “Walk with us.”

 

Our Gospel reading recounts a portion of the story of Jesus sending out “the seventy” in their mission. I encourage you to read the entire chapter when you have a few moments. Several things strike me about the seventy and the story they told upon their return. 

 

Firstly, they are not sent out alone. Jesus sent them out in pairs. Maybe workers are more diligent and accountable in pairs. Often, we are safer, less vulnerable, when we have someone with whom to travel. There is wisdom in sending pairs with diverse gifts. Perhaps the mission of the wider Church today would be better served by seeing how we can “pair” ourselves in ministry and in mission.

 

Secondly, the seventy are likely not trained religious leaders. The seventy embody God's reign, with the many accompanying signs and wonders helping them to reveal it. The sharing of God's peace, the curing of the sick, the casting out of demons are all signs of the breaking in of God's future reign into our present world and reality. All of us are called to this ministry, and we carry it out in any number of ways.

 

Thirdly, the seventy are wildly successful, or so they think. They come back amazed. But Jesus is not surprized. He knows that they will do these things and more. But he also knows that it is not the seventy that do these things. It is the work of the Holy Spirit. It is not about us. It is always about God and what God is up to. That God chooses to use flawed, fallible human beings as witnesses to God's reign is testimony to God's power, God's vulnerability, and the risks God takes for the sake of the world God loves. It may be a pathetic thing, but in God’s administrative policy, it has to be us.

 

This installation is another moment of transition for all of us gathered here. My ministry during the past decade or so has been leading churches through transitions in leadership. One of the things I have learned is that all churches are in some kind of transition most of the time. Sometimes, those transitions are wonderful and sometimes they are horrible. Sometimes the transitions are transformative and sometimes they are traumatic. In every case, it seems to me that we are called together to engage in a continuous missionary enterprise in which we and others can find the way into the life of God.

 

In Anne Lamott’s book Traveling Mercies, she tells the story of a little girl who decided one day she was going to see what’s out there in the world. She went downtown and saw the lights and heard the horns blaring and all the people. She was amazed by it all until she realized she didn’t know how to get home. A police officer drove up and saw her, and said, “Are you all right?” She said, “I’m lost, and I don’t know how to get back home.” He said, “Get in and we’ll drive around and see if you see anything that looks familiar.” So, he drove her around until suddenly she cried out, “Stop! There’s my church. I can always find my way home from there.”

 

The people of St. Christopher’s underwent the trauma of being tossed out of your church building not so long ago. But God gave you the grace to turn your scars into stars. You were welcomed and given a place to gather by St. Matthew’s. The Episcopal Church stood alongside you. Paula was sent to you. In response to your request, Bishop Doyle has made her your Vicar. He has sent Bishop Seage to provide even more oversight and support in the work you are called to do. You have become a stronger and even more outward-focused community. And you have learned that the Church is not a building but a beacon, a light-bearing people helping others find the way to all the things that mean “home.” So, people of St. Christopher’s and Paula your Vicar, our prayer for you today is that you may continue that journey together, learning from the past, embracing the present, reaching in hope for what lies ahead, and with each step proclaiming the nearness of God’s reign.

 

Our theologian du jour Jerry Garcia once said, “If you’re able to enjoy something, to devote your life to it or a reasonable amount of time and energy, it will work out for you.” Or, as God said to Joshua at his installation as Vicar of the Israelites, “Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” For that, we are grateful.


February 15, 2026
The Feast of the Transfiguration is August 6th of each year. The Transfiguration is also celebrated each year on the Last Sunday After the Epiphany as the culmination of a series of events in which Jesus is manifested as the Anointed One, the Messiah, the Son of God. And that is fitting, for it is indeed an epiphany, a manifestation or showing forth of God in Christ. It is, perhaps, the most vivid such manifestation in the Gospels, at least prior to the Resurrection. Indeed, it seems to be a prefiguration, or a foretaste, of the resurrection appearances, and even a foretaste of the more direct vision of God that we hope to enjoy for all eternity when, as St. Paul tells us, we shall see him not as through a glass, darkly, but face to face. It must have been quite an experience for Peter, James, and John; one that they would never forget. In fact, Peter refers to it in the passage we read in today's Epistle. Very likely it's a story Peter often told to the early Christians. It was really something to see Jesus talking with those long-dead heroes of the faith, Moses and Elijah. Did you ever stop to wonder how they knew it was Moses and Elijah? How could they have known, except that God must have inspired them with this knowledge. But then, seeing Moses and Elijah wouldn't have been half as awesome as seeing the transfigured Jesus Christ – someone they knew well, with whom they had traveled and shared meals and conversed day after day. No wonder we are told that Peter didn't know what he was saying! And then a cloud came and overshadowed them, and they heard the voice of God: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” Well! There couldn't have been a clearer manifestation, a clearer statement from God of just who Jesus was. “This is my Son, the Beloved.” Just in case they hadn't understood this before, God makes it perfectly clear. Let's focus now on what God said next: “Listen to him!” Our NRSV translation has an exclamation point after that sentence – as well it should. These three words could form the basis for numerous sermons and countless meditations. Listen to him. We can't go wrong if we just listen to Jesus. We would do well to make these words our focus: “Listen to him!” How do we do that? Does Jesus still speak to us? When and where does Jesus speak to us? There are probably a lot of answers to that question, but here are just a few. Jesus speaks to us in the words of Holy Scripture, and especially in the words of the four Gospels, which tell us about his life and teachings. Spending a little time each day with our Bibles – reading, praying, and thinking about what Jesus is saying to us in these words – will certainly contribute a great deal toward our ability to “listen to him,” to hear his voice. We are fortunate to belong to a Christian tradition that encourages us to search the Scriptures for meaning and that embraces the possibility that there may be many different meanings for a passage from the Bible. We should take advantage of that freedom and open ourselves to the possibility of transfiguration. Jesus also speaks to us through other people. Our Christian friends have much to say that can inspire us. That’s why we study in groups and worship in groups and often carry out our ministries in groups. Jesus also calls to us through people who are in need. He said, “Whatever you do for the least of these my brothers and sisters, you do unto me.” He also says whatever we don’t do for them, we don’t do for him. We can help in many ways but God sends people into our lives each day. The child in the detention center, the woman who was abused as a child, the veteran struggling with PTSD, those who rely on 4Saints & Friends Food Pantry, families whose hearts are made glad by Laundry Love, those suffering from leprosy who are cared for and fed because of Hopewallah. The “least of these” might be one who says, “I was down in the dumps and you smiled at me?” I had the privilege of serving as Interim Rector at St. John’s Church in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. St. John’s Church owns about an acre of land in Grand Teton National Park and on it sits The Chapel of the Transfiguration. Gay was commissioned to write an icon to be displayed on the wall of the chapel. She had several patterns she was considering. I took the examples with me to the weekday Eucharist on day and asked Lou, one of our regular attendees at that service, which one she liked best. She looked at them and pointed to one with some enthusiasm. “That one!” she said. “What is it about that one?” I asked. She said, “In that one, Jesus and the disciples are not only ascending the mountain, they are also coming down.” I told Gay and that is the pattern she used. You see, Lou’s husband was a mountain climber. He ascended Mt. Everist with Jim Whitaker. But he didn’t come down. He lost his life there. For Lou, it was very personal and very important to remember that Jesus, Peter, James, and John came down, came back, continued on their journey. Jesus spoke to Gay and me through Lou! And here's one more way that we might hear Jesus speaking to us: in the silence. Do you remember the story of Elijah waiting for God in the cave? “Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.” What kind of a sound does sheer silence make? I think we all remember an earlier translation that said: “a still small voice.” We know what that sounds like, don't we? And perhaps it is the same thing, because it is all too easy to drown out that still small voice with wind and earthquake and fire and the like. Maybe we need to tune out and turn off before we can begin to listen. Turn off the TV for a while, sign off on the Internet, and, most of all, tune out the internal noise that is the hardest of all to still. To put it bluntly, we need to shut up once in a while, even in our prayers. The kind of prayer where we talk to God and tell him about our life and how it is going and the things we are worried about and so forth, is good, but there comes a time when we need to stop even doing that, and just listen. Is it possible to sit still and listen for five minutes? Then do that. Then maybe you can go for10 or 15 or even 20 minutes. If the internal noise starts up again, bring yourself back to the silence with some small word like “Listen” or just “Jesus.” What sound will you hear in the silence? When our ears are opened to listen for the divine voice, what we hear may be an epiphany we ne.  The Holy Spirit is actively at work in the world, our SaviorJesus Christ is with us every moment, until the end of the ages, just as he promised he would be. We must simply take the time to listen, and to look for the one who is the light of the world, the one whose light we shall one day see face to face. As St. Peter tells us in today's reading: “You will do well to be attentive to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.” Amen 1
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We all look for something to steer for us. My mom often said, “Be careful what you wish for”. She never explained what it meant…she didn’t have to. Often, when we wish for something, there are unintended consequences. I’m an early-adapter with all things technology. When self-driving cars became a thing, it was at the top of my wish list. And then one night, my car downloaded a software update that allowed me to try fully self-driving mode for thirty days. Free. They were speaking my language. Much of the time, that software worked beautifully. But one night I was driving home from the church…through the Fort Worth mix-master. At the best of times, the mix-master is a test of faith. That night, I realized…a little too late…that my car didn’t “see” vehicles merging from my right at highway speeds. A car darted in front of me at 55mph. My car panicked. It slammed on the brakes, forcing everyone behind me to do the same. Tires were squealing and I may have said a few choice words. Then a calm robotic voice came through my speaker: “What just happened?” Without thinking, I answered, “We’re all going to need clean clothes!”—a reminder that trusting the wrong kind of power can create more chaos than good. Three thousand years ago, the Israelites faced a similar challenge. They had judges—and they had Yahweh—but they were not satisfied. The nations around them had kings and queens…and Israel longed for a visible symbol of power: a government that looked strong and invincible to their neighbors. “Give us a king,” they said, “like other nations.” [1] Samuel warned them: “…in that day you will cry out because of your king, whom you have chosen for yourselves; but the Lord will not answer you in that day” [2] Be careful what you wish for. God’s warning is clear: the king you want will take more from you than he gives. And history shows it. Saul and David and their successors ruled. But, human power systems fail…they always have…we are no strangers to that in our own time. After Solomon, the kingdom split into the northern kingdom of Israel and the southern kingdom of Judah. Leaders often sought their own gain instead of tending to the people, especially the most vulnerable. By Jeremiah’s time, Judah itself teetered on collapse. Yet God speaks through the prophet, offering hope, promise, and vision of restoration. “I will gather the remnant of my flock…I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them, and they shall not fear any longer. The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign wisely and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land.” [3] Jeremiah is speaking God’s words here—a promise of a king unlike any human ruler. Not a king who exploits or coerces, but a shepherd who tends the scattered, who watches over the vulnerable, and who leads with justice and care. Luke shows us that shepherd in the most unexpected place: on a cross. Even there, Christ gathers the lost and welcomes the outsider—the very people no one expects to matter. Colossians describes the cosmic dimension of this shepherd—the One who reigns over all creation and reconciles all things through love. This shepherd’s kingdom is not defined by force—but by mercy; not by fear—but by reconciliation; not by scarcity—but by eternal gift. And here is the Advent connection: the King we await is already among us—reigning in ways that the world does not expect—and has never expected. Christ’s reign is not deferred to the end times. It is now. For those who long for a dramatic return of Jesus…scrutinizing hidden messages and timetables…be careful what you wish for. Christ’s reign is not waiting on a cosmic clock. It is already present, entrusted to us --the mystical Body of Christ-- in this world, in this moment. And that realization is sobering. Because if Christ reigns through mercy, reconciliation, and self-giving love, then we—his Body—are called to reign in that way too. In our families, we are called to speak truth in love and care for one another. In our workplaces and communities, we are called to act justly, to lift up the vulnerable, to speak for those without voice, and to forgive the one who has wronged us. In the simple moments of everyday life—offering a kind word, feeding the hungry, welcoming the outsider—we participate in the Shepherd’s reign. Advent invites us to practice that reign, to trust that heart, to embody God’s kingdom in the everyday moments of our lives. We all look for something to steer for us. Christ the King reminds us: the safest driver is not me…or a throne…or even a Tesla. The only true driver is God. In Advent, we learn to let go, trust God, and follow, even when the road ahead is uncertain. Thanks be to God. [1] 1 Samuel 8:5 [2] 1 Samuel 8:10-18 [3] Jeremiah 23:3-5
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