Third Sunday after Pascha

As preached by Sister Cecelia
Holy Wisdom Church

May 3, 2026  

1 John 3:16-24; Acts 3:1-16; John 5:1-15 (Pool of Bethzatha)

Χριστὸς ἀνέστη! (Khristós anésti! Христос Воскресе! (Khristos Voskrese!) 

This morning’s gospel was about the third miracle that Jesus did after coming from Judea to Galilee in his public ministry. The first was changing water into wine. The second was healing the royal official’s son from afar. Early on, Jesus show us his attitude towards those in need as well as to those he befriended.

Was Jesus alone when he saw the man in one of the porticoes near the pool?  No mention is made of anyone with him, only that he was on his way to Jerusalem, keeping the law that on three of the major Jewish feasts, all men within a certain distance from the temple had to worship in and pay tribute to the temple.

 Jesus asked the man if he really wanted to be cured, knowing that some invalids can get quite comfortable being cared for. The man’s answer was immediately -- yes. He explained that others could make it into the waters before him, since it took him so long to drag himself there. Since he had been there for 38 years, it seems that miraculous (looking) cures had taken place during those years. According to history, people of those generations believed in the miraculous powers of water. Wouldn’t you hold that belief, if for no apparent reason the still waters of that deep pool bubbled up?

In the gospel account, the man believed that Jesus could heal him. So strong was his belief that he picked up his pallet when directed by Jesus and started on his way, only to be challenged by others who saw him disregarding the Sabbath laws. When Jesus saw him later in the temple, he counseled him to not make the same mistakes as he had before, as even worse things might happen to him. (I don’t think Jesus was saying that all diseases and misfortunes are due to our mistakes, or sins, but in this case the man had caused his misfortune by what he had done.)

When we have no thought of God,  I see a miracle in how God so often seeks us. No other religion or belief system has the vision of a seeking God. When we are approached by God, do we open the door of our hearts?  In the letters of St John verse 20 the Risen Christ says: “I am standing at the door and knocking.”

St Bernard, back in the 12^th century, often said this in his discourses to the monastics: “However early they might wake and rise for prayer on a cold morning, or even in the dead of night, they would find God… waiting for them.”

Can we learn to translate the day-to-day happenings in our journey through life as Christ knocking at our door?  Difficulties in our lives are often seen as obstacles to faith or punishment or disapproval by God. Yet, so often, they can help us realize our dependence on God when we find we cannot control everything around us, when we find the strength needed to endure pain and hardship, when we learn to enjoy all creation and our life.

Besides the miracle of realizing Christ is knocking at our door, do we see happenings in our own lives or in others as miracles? Like the paralytic, may we believe in the miracle of Jesus Christ being with us to help us love one another by truly wishing the well-being of our neighbor.

Christ is Risen!

 

Sermon 217 April 19, 2026 Jn 20:19-31, Col 1:13b-20 Ac 2:22-36 Thomas Sunday

 As preached by Brother Luke
Holy Wisdom Church

Christ is Risen!, Christos Aneste! Christos Voscrese!

 

       How do we move beyond the unavoidable painful experiences of life? Denying them or convincing ourselves that they never happened is not the answer, even though our head and heart may want to choose one of those paths. Holding onto them and never letting go, like scratching at an old wound, constantly obsessing over every slight, injury, abuse, ... is also a dead end. Today's gospel lesson gives us an insight into how, in St. Paul's words, Christ strengthens us to do anything, [Philippians 4:13] including to move beyond the pain.

       What was behind Thomas's refusal to believe his brothers when they told him they had seen Christ? The proof he wanted to see was not just Jesus, but to physically touch the wounds in his hands and side. Without those wounds, it couldn't possibly be the real Christ, the one who suffered and died for us. But the wounds were there and Thomas touched them and cried out: my Lord and my God.

       Christ emerged from his crucifixion and death, not unscathed but undaunted. The evidence of his trials and suffering were still there, they were real marks from his suffering, but he had overcome them. They did not disappear. They were the marks of his life, but not impediments to his goals. He still needed to accomplish his goal to energize his apostles and disciples to spread the Good News far and wide.

       Thomas was not alone in needing to be convinced of Christ's resurrection. On another occasion, [Jn 20:18] recounted in the passage preceding the one we read today, all the disciples had refused to believe Mary Magdalene and the other women when they told the disciples they had seen Christ. Christ's visit to the apostles, when Thomas was absent, was needed to reinforce the truth of what Mary Magdalene had reported. 

       Christ's wounds proved to Thomas the reality of the resurrection. His appearance to Thomas and the other apostles rekindled their belief in and commitment to the message of the Good News. Thomas went on to proclaim the Gospel deep into Asia where ultimately he died a martyr in India. The other apostles also preached the Good News in many other lands and many died as martyrs.

       The realities of life inevitably inflict wounds on all of us. Christ's return visit to the apostles in response to Thomas' skepticism, also fulfilled Isaiah's prophecy, "through his bruises, you have been healed." [Is 53:5; 1 Peter 2:24] He shows Thomas, the other apostles, and us, that even though we may still carry the scares of life's wounds, we can emerge from those trials in a better place.

       He is calling us to rely on him and on his experience to help us rise above the unavoidable trials and sorrows of this life. For  the life Christ is calling us to, here and now and in the future, is one of joy beyond all imagining. He is with us, to help us move beyond the immediate challenges so that we can truly experience the life prepared for all of us. When we shout Christ is risen, it is not just a proclamation of the good news about Christ, it is a clarion call by all of us join with Christ in the risen life, the destination we are called to.

Christ is Risen!

Sermon 216 March 22, 2026 Is 59: 12-20; Rom 13: 8b-14; Lk10: 25-37 “Good Samaritan – Go and do likewise.”

 As preached by Brother Luke

Holy Wisdom Church

       When we hear the story of the good Samaritan it is easy to be drawn into the praiseworthy character of the hero of the story. In history and even in current news stories, people acting like the Good Samaritan can lift our spirits, especially in the midst of tragedies and despair. In our tradition the Good Samaritan represents Jesus Christ. And that is the model we are invited to replicate in our own lives. At the end of the story, what did Jesus say to the lawyer who identified neighbor as the one who showed mercy? “Go and do likewise.”

However, as we ponder this story, we dare not forget the stories of the other characters, which may touch us in ways that bring up moments in our own lives when we acted like the priest or the Levite, or felt more like the poor unfortunate traveler: pummeled, robbed, striped naked and left for dead by the circumstances of our lives or psychologically debilitated by the oppressive realities of the world today. So, we can see two different sides to this story played out in our lives: Lenten repentance and paschal resurrection.

When we see someone in need, we have the option to help or turn away, as did the Priest and the Levite. If we turn away, then our Lenten journey opens the door for our repentance. This is when we can devote additional time for prayer and recollection around some of our past decisions and actions. It can be a time to seek forgiveness from others or even ourselves. We may even feel the presence of Christ bearing a light to guide us to repentance, forgiveness and new behavior when the next opportunity arises. And when it does, to make ourselves available to others in need. Our change in ourselves is a resurrection.

When we are the ones in need, we may pray for someone to help us, or at least listen to us. When this happens and others come to our aid in our time of need, might we see this as our prayers being answered, as Christ moving through others to come to our aid? Also a resurrection for us.

How we respond to such a situation can depend on how we understand the situation. This brings us to the central image of the story: who is my neighbor? When Christ refers to the two most important commandments to live by: love God and love your neighbor, neighbor takes on a character that is expansive and all inclusive. It’s not just our next-door neighbor, though it could be, nor our neighborhood.

       The resurrection reality strikes home to us when we finally realize that everyone is our neighbor and the world is one human community and we need our neighbor and they need us. In the Good Samaritan story, all the characters are one human reality. Even though the Samaritan is outside the Jewish clan, Jesus, as Jew takes on that role to obliterate the barrier. Even the robbers are part of the “family”. Their story is part of the fabric of the human condition. Repentance and resurrection are offered to all. God’s purpose and Jesus’s actions and teachings are intended to show all humanity the path to the Kingdom which begins with each one of us right here on earth.

       No screening process is to take place. After all, who was the person who was robbed? We don’t know. And the Samaritan? An outsider. The person God places before us who is in need is our neighbor. And when we respond like the Good Samaritan, then we are living our baptismal pledge to “put on Christ,” as we show mercy and “go and do likewise” as Jesus commands us to do.

Glory be to Jesus Christ!

 

February 15, 2026 Judgement Sunday

 As preached by Sister Cecelia
Holy Wisdom Church

Job 22:1-11,31:16-23,29-37; Colossians 3:5-17; Matthew 25:31-46

We have heard many sermons about the sheep and goats and while this morning’s Gospel reading might lead one to believe that God will judge us according to how we live the gospel teachings, I believe the emphasis isn’t on the judgement. It is on how well we embrace the message that all humanity is the Christ.

How do we treat the Christ in one another? The meaning of the parable is not that evil will be punished and good rewarded. But it is the love of Christ through loving one’s fellow beings that Christ is urging us to embrace. Jesus taught that God doesn’t judge our sins; but, like the father of the Prodigal Son, God only has love for us.

Jesus did not urge the crowds to disobey either the civil or the religious laws. He said to follow the law but to know that obedience to the law is not the way to the Kingdom of his Father, our God.  Jesus stressed that all the laws are fulfilled when we come to the place in consciousness where we will be able to love God and our neighbor as ourselves: our whole selves—our psychological selves, our physical selves, our mind, and all our senses. The meaning of the parable is not that evil will be punished and good rewarded, but that we love Christ through loving our fellow beings.  

Now, the question in my mind: How do we go about achieving this Christ Consciousness?

It seems to me that in ancient times the emphasis on being good was mainly how one took care of orphans and widows. Cultures change, and the emphasis in recent times is taking care of the poor, the downtrodden, and the hungry—and being just. The Epistle to the Colossians this morning has whole lists of what to cultivate within ourselves and a list of what not to embrace. 

Is being good the emphasis we need to achieve this Christ Consciousness? We think of sin as being the opposite of good. It has been said by a contemporary Greek Orthodox mystic, Spyros Sathi, that there is no sin; there is only experience. All humans will grow spiritually until the attainment of theosis—the realization that one is an integral part of God, the God within.

 It’s also been said we are the temple of God.  Would the thought that I am the temple of God enable me to love more as God loves? I hope it would help me to be more understanding rather than inclined to bitterness, envy, or cynicism which are attitudes we are inclined to think of as not being good.

To achieve this Christ Consciousness might require relooking at the idea of good and evil. Most people who we might think are evil, think they are doing or being good. Growth is needed, and sometimes it is by making mistakes that we grow. It is the experience of living, making choices, and thereby growing.

Achieving this Christ Consciousness takes time. It takes waiting, which  is something most of us would like to avoid. It is spiritually challenging but is an essential part of life. “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently” and “Those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength” are refrains from the Psalms and there are many more.

Recently I came across something that applies to this thought of Christ Consciousness:

Two little fish were swimming along toward a spot where they might find food. Along came a bigger, older fish going the opposite direction. As he came along beside them, he said “Good morning little ones. How’s the water?” They each continued on their way but eventually one little fish said to the other, “What the heck is water?”

Christ is the water.

This coming Lent is an opportunity to be still and realize that waiting in faith is what God asks us to do as we strive to understand to really see the Christ in everyone we meet.

Christ is in our midst!

Sermon 215 January 25, 2026: Lk 19:1-10; 2Tim 2: 11-19; Zeph 3: 9-13 Zacchaeus + Gregory the theologian

 As Preached by Brother Luke
Holy Wisdom Church

In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit!

“For the son of man has come to seek out and save what was lost.” [Lk 19:10]

 

At first glance it would be hard to think of Zacchaeus as lost. He was savvy and wealthy. He negotiated a lucrative position in government service and took advantage of his position to amass a fortune. He did well for himself. He has a slight image problem in his society. But what does that matter? The guardians of social propriety looked down on him as one whose wealth and power was gained by virtue of his connection with the occupying power. Yet these critics were not averse to wealth and power and to use their position to control others. And in those days, it was felt that if you were wealthy and powerful you were blessed by God. Along comes Jesus Christ and turns all of this on its head. Outsiders are in and insiders are out.

Well not exactly. Nobody is really out. Everyone has the opportunity to be saved. But Jesus is making a point here about how one is to go about this. He is seeking out the lost but it has a reciprocal component to it. And the first step is desire. On the Sunday before Christmas, we refer to Daniel as the prophet of desire, due to his devotion, righteousness, and commitment to God. And God saves him. Daniel’s lifelong desire to connect with and please God is a high standard for ordinary people. Zacchaeus didn’t meet that standard, but what he did have was desire. We are not told how that came about, but we see the outcome in action.

He has heard about Jesus and desires to see this special man, maybe just out of curiosity. But there is a crowd and he is short and with his reputation the crowd wasn’t going to part for him to get a better view. Not wanting the moment to pass and miss his opportunity, he dispenses with propriety and scrambles up a tree to get a glimpse of Jesus as he passes. But then Jesus stops and looks straight at him. Who knows what went through his head at that moment? But the outsider is no longer the outsider. Out of that entire crowd, Jesus notices him, and calls him by name: Zacchaeus, come down, I am to stay at your house today. The murmuring of the crowd grows. He is going to a sinner’s house! Unthinkable! And that’s our opening! The unthinkable is just where Jesus goes.

We can spend our whole life thinking we are unworthy to receive Jesus into our lives. Look at all the mistakes we’ve made, all the wrong turns, all the things we’ve done and now regret, all the moments we’d like to take back and make better. And Jesus overlooks all that and calls us by name and says, come here, I am to stay at your house today. Unthinkable, but not for Jesus, not for God! As the gospel says, Jesus has come to seek out and save the lost. And that’s really all of us. We are all lost, but not forgotten, even if we feel shoved aside by life or society. We are always within God’s grasp. We simply need to want God to notice and to hold us, and he will.

 

Glory be to Jesus Christ!

Homily for Lk 11:1-4, 9-13 (Jan 18, 2026)

 

As preached by

Brother Christopher

Holy Wisdom Church

 

Now it happened that Jesus was in a certain place praying, and when he had finished one of the disciples said, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.”

 

Of the four evangelists, Luke is the one that mentions Jesus spending specific times in prayer the most, whether frequently going off to pray in solitary spots, or spending the whole night in prayer, or even praying in the presence of several of his disciples as at the transfiguration or in Gethsemane. The reality is deceptively simple: Jesus prayed. Which leads to the further question, “Why?” Since it is not uncommon for us to assume that Jesus, as the ‘beloved Son’, lived in a state of perpetual and spontaneous intimacy with God, it is striking that Jesus seemed to need intentional times to nourish his relationship with God. This wasn’t just for show; he needed it. As much as he was divine, he was also fully human, able to know from inside his skin what it means to be a human being and how important it was to regularly withdraw and pray as if his life depended on it. Because it did.

So it’s no surprise that the disciples, seeing how essential prayer was for Jesus, would ask him to teach them how to pray. What I find interesting, however, is his response. What is traditionally called “the Lord’s prayer” has over the centuries become the most well-known prayer in all the Christian churches, taught to most of us as children and recited or sung in most every church service. Who of us does not have it anchored in our memory? Yet looked at by itself, it seems too brief to be an adequate response to the original request of the disciple. It’s utter simplicity seems to leave so much unsaid. However, there may be another way of looking at this, one not so much concerned with giving a set formula for prayer as expressing a broader climate in which prayer extends and flourishes.

              Let me explain what I mean. During the long periods of prayer that Jesus seemed to take, I strongly suspect that he was not repeating a set prayer over and over again, despite the fact that he would have been formed in the tradition of Jewish prayer with its roots in the Hebrew scriptures. Jesus was a contemplative par excellence, who was able to be prayerful in all of life’s circumstances. He wasn’t always “saying prayers” so much as he was “being prayer”. When the disciples asked him to teach them how to pray, they wanted to learn Jesus’ way of prayer, a prayer that was not confined to set formulas, but which was able to permeate the whole of their life experience.

Which is what the Lord’s prayer really is: it is a prayer that is longing for an expansive mindset, one that is able to permeate every nook and cranny of life. It is significant that Jesus’ first word is “Father”. Jesus was speaking out of his own relationship with the Father, inviting them to share in that same closeness, that same intimacy. Can we believe that? He acknowledges and reverences the Father’s name, his very being and prays for the fulfillment of his kingdom. Can we consent to that and hope for its realization? It is only then that he prays for what we need to survive – food, forgiveness for our faults, and support in the time of trial. Can we be humble enough to acknowledge our need for divine help? And further, can we persevere in faith when our prayer doesn’t seem to be answered according to our own timetable? Can we trust in God? If so, the power of Jesus’ prayer is that it creates an atmosphere, a climate of gratitude that perdures and accompanies us long after the prayer’s final word.

Homily for Theophany (Jan 6, 2026)

 

As preached by

Brother Christopher

Holy Wisdom Church 

 

In thinking about today’s feast, I found myself asking a simple, predictable question: “Why did Jesus seek baptism from John the Baptist?” Since John’s was a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, and presuming that Jesus had no need to be purified in this way, why did Jesus deliberately seek out baptism from John? Based on today’s gospel, one probable explanation could be that it was the most effective way for Jesus to be publicly recognized. Given John’s reluctance to go through with the baptism, his protestation that he needed baptism from Jesus, one could understand Jesus’ response to let it be... so as to fulfill all righteousness. It was a question of doing God’s will. By doing so, not only John, but all those around him would hear the revelation that accompanied the baptism. That certainly seems to be Matthew’s point: here is the Messiah.  Yet this wasn’t simply a “ta-da” moment. It was more a confirmation for Jesus to launch his public ministry which would quickly pick up steam through his healings and teaching.

Be that as it may, however, beyond Matthew’s specific intent, Jesus’ baptism reveals something more: it is the revelation of the Trinity, the distinctive bedrock of Christian belief about the very nature of God. It all starts here.  Just as the Spirit hovered over the waters at the creation in Genesis, here we have the Spirit in the form of the dove lighting upon Jesus, followed by the voice from heaven saying, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”  Father, Son and Spirit are revealed in this event. What it means for us is the reality of a new creation, the possibility of real personal and cosmic transformation.

              The first two readings this morning amplify this. Ezekiel prophesies that God will pour clean water over Israel, removing the heart of stone, giving them a new heart and a new spirit. And in Paul’s letter to Titus he explains that God’s grace has been revealed to save the entire human race. He does this by means of the cleansing water of rebirth and renewal in the Holy Spirit. The fruit of this is an enlightenment of sorts, the gift of being able to recognize Christ as the true light of the world. This is what baptism inaugurates, even if it takes years to come to a more mature, personal experience of Christ.

Still, all this, powerful as it is, doesn’t exhaust the riches of this feast, the scope of its mystery. By Jesus’ accepting baptism, he consciously identifies with all people, with sinners of all times, without exception. He literally plunges into an identification with all humanity, both individually and collectively. It is a prophetic act, one that makes clear that he came not to judge or condemn, not to lay on us a new burden of rules and regulations, but by taking on our nature to be simply united with us, knowing from the inside what it is like to be a human being; he does this solely out of love, and in so doing even more mysteriously makes us partakers of his divine life. This is what makes the incarnation credible: what St Athanasius said so long ago: “God became human so that humans may become God.”