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.”

               

 

Feast of the Circumcision

 As preached by Sister Cecelia
Holy Wisdom Church

Jeremiah 31:2-4, 7-9; Colossians 2:8-14; Luke 2:21, 39-40    

Christ is born!

There are few times in our lives when as a society we pause to reflect on what is, what has been, and what lies ahead. The opportunity to make an account of our year becomes an invitation to reflect on the Nativity of Jesus, which draws us into reflecting on the realities of God’s love incarnate in our lives, just as Mary did in keeping all these things in her heart. (Luke  2:19.)

Here are some suggestions. Notice when and where God has been evident. Notice where you have been invited to be more attentive to your life. Notice what has given you more energy and joy. Notice what are the gifts and graces you need most at this time in your life. And what can you hand over to God to share the load? We need humility to realize that we are not responsible for everything, only some things.

In the past year, there were important moments of insight and challenge. Now we can entrust the past to God, and look to the year ahead. When and how will we make space for God? It is time to live life fuller rather than faster.  Will our lives reflect God’s mercy and love?

Paul wrote to Timothy that God “wills everyone to be saved.” (1 Timothy 2:4.) This divine desire does not let us off the hook to behave however we wish. It calls forth our true selves, which are rooted in the image of God in which we were all made. If we stumble along the way or stray from our deepest identity as God’s adopted ones, God does not give up on any of us. Jesus has said: “Do not be afraid…for your heavenly Father is pleased to give you the kingdom.” (Luke 12:32.)

Reflecting back on the past is one part of our equation. Now we are on the brink of something new and unknown. We know from experience that there is no knowing what the future will hold.

 Yet, we can catch a glimpse of the mystery captured in the Incarnation.  God has become human, and is joined irreversibly in hope and prayer with what will be. Our lives and faith testify to that union. Our hope is placed in the One who sanctifies time by entering into it. Embracing this mystery of the Incarnation and celebrating it invites a leap of faith. We trust that God will be with us wherever we go, just as God has been with us wherever we‘ve been.

Luke‘s gospel reading this morning brings to mind that Mary and Joseph were keeping the law regarding Circumcision. Some think that keeping the laws of the society we are in is a guarantee that our lives are in order. That is not necessarily true. We are called to a higher form of harmony, one that flows from an ongoing and always deepening relationship with the God who loves us first, best, and always. The God who insists that our neighbor is therefore also worthy of being loved as best we are able.

We know many who are searching for something. Some want to find a deeper meaning to their lives. Some want to find the right career path; others want to find freedom from whatever binds them. We have something to offer them in their search—not a pat answer to their questions, but companionship on the journey of discovering the love of God that gives meaning to everything else.

We might pray to God in words like this: “Loving God be with us in the tasks we undertake, and make us free to find You.  Let us be generous in opening our lives and hearts to others. Let us give time to those who need it; but help us to hold on to the moments we need for our own wellbeing, and grant us the sincerity and wisdom to know which is which. Help us to face reality in each moment honestly and with love. As we begin this new year, may it be filled with peace and love.”

Christ is born anew and is with us.