Sunday Sermon

“For my part I believe in the forgiveness of sin and the redemption of ignorance.”
-Adlai Stevenson

I have refrained from preaching for a while now. I wish I could say that it was because I was busy with school, but the truth is, I simply don't feel qualified anymore. Regardless of how self-effacing you try to be, a sermon of any kind connotes a message delivered from a pulpit, a space above the congregation. I, in no way, stand above the Flock. In fact, many of my regular readers are people of immense merit and tangible worth, who stand head and shoulders above the desperate mass of humanity - how on earth did I presume to preach to them in the first place?

Many other preachers have faced this dilemma. Amish preachers sometimes begin their sermons by saying something like, "I'm not qualified to preach, but I preach because God called me to do so." I don't have that kind of excuse, and my congregation would never swallow that brand of drivel anyway - way too savvy. No, I preached in the past simply because I had taken on the mantle of "reverend" and that's what reverends do. I had, and still have, no divine mandate to sermonize. I preached, in all honesty, because I thought I had something relevant to say; something that might help someone.

I have come to doubt my ability to write anything that is meaningful beyond a chuckle. Not that laughter isn't valid - it is a wonderful gift, and I'm happy when I can make folks giggle a bit - but it's hardly the sort of mooring we all seek when the seas are rough. It's more of a life preserver; it keeps us afloat just long enough (we hope) for real comfort to arrive...and real comfort is rarely seen at this URL anymore. I rant, I bore you with the details of my workout obsession, I point you toward crazy shit in the news, but how often do you come away from this blog feeling better?

That, I believe, is what a good sermon should do. While the great preachers were never afraid to goad, chastise, or rebuke their congregations, they always gave them a message of hope. Even the most horrific, pulpit-pounding, hellfire and brimstone sermon contains the underlying message that there is a way out of this mess. I need to begin offering that here again. I need to reiterate the catechism of this strange ministry, and quit being such a whiner. So let's start again, and I'll try to bring the hope...

SUNDAY SERMON
As for myself, I have internalized the title "His Sinfulness" a bit too successfully - redemption from my myriad transgressions seems unlikely. I do, however, still have hope for you all.

That hope leads me to believe that despite what I read and hear and see everyday, humanity is moving in the right direction.

We are still selfish children, but I can see a day when our collective "terrible twos" will come to an end.

We still don't understand that life is a team sport - if one loses, we all lose - but we are beginning to understand a few of the rules now.

Even though greed blinds us to it, today, more than ever, we have the means and the resources to feed everyone, clothe everyone, house everyone, heal everyone, and vaccinate everyone. We have the capacity to embrace everyone, and we lose nothing by trying.

We can choose to be kind, to lessen suffering, to think honestly about the effects of our behavior, and to act the way we know we should for the greatest good.

So, you should all go do that. Now-ish.

Go in Peace.