At St. Brigids, we practice a “shared homily” or sermon.
The time of reflection is invited by the bell, leading into a period of silence and stillness. A designated preacher offers their prepared reflections on the week’s appointed readings from the Bible.
After another time of silence and stillness invited by the bell, members of the community are invited to help complete the homily by adding their own reflections. These sermon archives only reflect the jumping-off point for our shared homily, and don’t reflect the depth and breadth of reflection shared by our community.
As we gather around the table tonight, may we allow ourselves to receive unconditional welcome from Jesus the stranger.
Early in the third century, the reigning Roman emperor – whose name was Septimius Severus – was able to quell a series of civil wars that were, quite unfortunately, destabilizing the Empire. The Empire – as Empires are wont to do – was seeking to expand. But it was a time of upheaval. Priorities of […]
The Psalmist escapes, feeling, perhaps finding himself truly and utterly alone. And in it all, the only one who remains faithful is God.
Death is not the end when you don’t live in fear, but live out of and into love.
The crowds have figured out that Jesus’ movement will not culminate in a Festival of Hope (for some) while casting others to the curb.
It’s complicated to try to stand together. It can be difficult to make space for even those with whom we disagree.
God is not done with us even when all that’s left is a dimly burning wick
Epiphany is everywhere. God continues to astonish and reveal God’s self in new and unexpected ways all the time – if only we had the time to pay attention.
It’s as though each year at this time we imagine that we get the chance to start all over again with a lovely clean slate, and a rose-tinted view of the Incarnation.
For me and so many others who have been watching and on the front lines of the fentanyl crisis in the Downtown East Side, we too are waiting.