1 Lent (Year A)
Matthew 4:1-11
St. John’s, West Seneca
February 22, 2026
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
Oscar Wilde once famously said: I can resist anything…but temptation.
It is a good place to start on this first Sunday in Lent, isn’t it? If we are going to walk with Jesus to Calvary, then let us meet the challenge head-on and now.
But first we must go to the desert. In his book, Walking the Bible, the author writes: “’First, you get thirsty,’ You wake up thinking about water, you go to sleep thinking about water, you dream about water. Go wandering in the desert for days, weeks or years at a time, and water becomes the most important thing, the only thing. Water becomes life. Water becomes salvation.
"Next, you get hungry. And you stay hungry. Finally, you get tired. You get tired of the heat, you get tired of the cold, and mostly you get tired of the sand.
"The sheer demands of the desert — thirst, hunger, misery — ask a simple question: ‘What is in your heart?’ Or, put another way, ‘In what do you believe?’”
Jesus goes to the desert, that frightening place, to be tested. It is no an uncommon theme in the Bible. Moses goes through the desert, then wanders with the Israelites for 40 years. Elijah flees to the desert.
It is a place of the unknown. And who is there but the devil, who is doing the devil’s best – and even quoting Scripture - to tempt Jesus into succumbing to spectacle, to hitch his wagon to his popularity and to give the people what they want. In those forty days, with no food or water, temptation is coming fast and furious.
“If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” Let’s start small, with just a little temptation. Think about it. Would it have been too much of a stretch? After all, God had provided manna in the wilderness, and Isaiah had written: “they will not hunger or thirst.” Jesus comes back with: “It is written, ‘one does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.'" Bread is God’s to give, not the devil’s.
The second temptation takes Jesus to the holy city, to the pinnacle of the temple: “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written, ‘he will command his angels concerning you,’ and ‘on their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’” Again, the question arises: Why not? The prophet Malachi has said that the “Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple.” But God is not interested in this type of spectacle, and so Jesus gives his answer to this clever quoting of Scripture, and says simply: “Again it is written, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”
Even that does not slow the tempter down. Jesus is shown all the nations of the world in all their splendor, with a promise: “All of these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” No luck. And so again, “Away with you, Satan! For it is written ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve only him.’”
Three things, three temptations. And had Jesus wanted instant success, he would have garnered all the attention he could have desired. Turn a stone into bread. An offer of all the kingdoms of the world. A spectacle in which even the angels would appear.
I can resist anything…but temptation. But Jesus could resist temptation. Jesus, while human, is also the Son of God. He knew that temptation is so often connected to something else, impatience. You want something that is really quite innocent in itself - a piece of bread, a chance to be a leader, a sign from God - but you get into trouble because you want it now. You're unwilling either to wait for it or to work for it, so you take shortcuts - and end up getting into trouble.
But in the desert, one must wait. And that is what Lent is all about, taking one’s time in our own yearly desert. The problem is that we want it and we want it now. We would like to go from Ash Wednesday to Easter in just a few short days, skipping all that time and just getting to the point.
As Christians, we don't have to join the rush. In this season of Lent, this springtime of the soul, as the days lengthen, this time of slow growth and spiritual development, we don't have to fall into the trap of feeling that we need to grab everything we can in this “fast and furious” world. In the face of our society's often superficial style of success, the challenge is to always consider carefully how our choices serve God and the kingdom. We need to take the long view.
Jesus reminds us that "where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." Jesus knows that we tend to throw our money at things that matter to us. Sometimes, that is actively working to improve our neighbors' life. Too often, it's about working to get the next gadget, or worse, keeping up with the Joneses. The season of Lent is a good time to reflect on where our treasures and our hearts are, and to take the time to move them, to a healthier and holier place. Because in the end, it is all so temporary.
Remember the illustration of the Spanish aqueduct? Miguel de Unamuno tells of an ancient Roman aqueduct, located near the city of Segovia. “The aqueduct — a sort of elevated trestle over which water flows — was constructed in the year A.D. 109. For 1,800 years, the aqueduct carried cool water from the mountains to the hot and thirsty city. As many as 60 generations depended on this marvel of engineering for their drinking water.
"Then came another generation, in more recent years, who said to each other, ‘This aqueduct is an architectural marvel. It’s a historical treasure that ought to be preserved. We should give it a well-earned rest.’
"That’s exactly what they did. They detoured the water flow away from the ancient stones and channeled it through modern pipes. They put up historical markers so tourists would know who had constructed the aqueduct, and for what purpose. They celebrated the fact that their city’s water system was now modern in every way.
"But then, a strange thing began to happen. The Roman aqueduct began to fall apart. The sun beating down on its dry mortar, without the constant flow of water to cool it, caused it to crumble. In time, the massive structural stones threatened to fall. What 18 centuries of hard service had not been able to destroy, a few years of idleness nearly did.”
That is the perfect metaphor for Lent. We are that aquaduct if we do not tend to our souls. There needs to be fresh, cool water flowing through our pipes if we want to remain sturdy and upright and refreshing to others. And it is perhaps the best example I can think of for what the discipline of Lent really is. If Lent does nothing else, it reminds us that we must not be idle, or we too will crumble or perish in the desert.
Jesus could well have taken his status so early in his ministry and made it a spectacle. The crowds would have loved it, until they didn’t and needed something new.
Peter Marshall once said: “It's no sin to be tempted. It isn't the fact of having temptations that should cause us shame, but what we do with them. Temptation is an opportunity to conquer.”
Yes, my friends, the key to overcoming temptation is to know that God will provide in every way, no matter what. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria.
Transfiguration (Year A)
Matthew
St. John’s, West Seneca
February 15, 2026
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
It is time for the Crazy Dog illustration again. What is a Crazy Dog? The Crow native Americans used to re-set their spirituality by engaging in what they called "Crazy Dog" activities. Being a Crazy Dog could mean simple things like purposefully eating dinner for breakfast, wearing your clothes inside-out, and just simply, upsetting your routine is some odd, but often, fun way. Being a Crazy Dog also meant taking a few risks, daring to be seen as foolish or weak or strange – and not just for yourself and your well-being, but for the community as well.
Brian Bowne Walker in his book The Crazy Dog Guide to Lifetime Happiness suggests that by participating in such silliness, we are resetting our spiritual compass. On the more serious side, Walker's advice for dealing with difficult people and painful situations is called "Be Bigger Than You Are." Instead of teaching ways to avoid or outsmart difficult people, Walker recommends taking the "Crazy Dog" route and truly listening to the complaints off your co-worker, relative or neighbor. And when you do that you are the “bigger person.”
If this sounds familiar, it should. Jesus called this being a "servant:" making the "last come first," lifting up the lowly and the marginalized over the rich and powerful. A true "Crazy Dog," Jesus was always turning conventional practices and perspectives upside-down. Of course, it was in his genes.
If ever there were group of Crazy Dogs, it is our Jewish brothers and sisters. Consider Abraham and Sarah, who, while elderly, were called to leave what they knew and wander to a new place. And then, even crazier, Abraham and Sarah became parents, first of a son and ultimately of an entire nation. Then came Moses, whom we see today, was crazy enough (with some nudging from God) to confront the most powerful man in the world, and tell that man, the Pharaoh, to let his people go. Joshua was one as well. When Israel and Judah ceased to be nations, there were the prophets. Think of Elijah, or Jeremiah, or Hosea or Jonah. And you can’t forget the courage of women, like Ruth who left all she knew to travel with her mother-in-law. Or Esther, who saved her people.
And just when no one had heard from God for quite some time, John the Baptist arrives on the scene, with his baptism for the repentance of sins, and being bold enough to call out Herod Antipas for his adultery.
And John pointed to another. When Jesus arrived, he didn’t follow the common sense of the time. Jesus came out of Nazareth ("Can anything good come out of Nazareth?"), and, while from the line of David, he was born into a family of an average carpenter from this small town in a conquered land. Throughout his unpredictable life Jesus pursued Crazy Dog activities, always attempting to re-set the spiritual compass, eating with tax collectors and publicans, associating with prostitutes, lepers, the poor, the sick.
And then, Jesus traveled to Jerusalem and challenged the religious establishment, which was truly crazy. And yet, from this, comes a new way after his death on the cross, followed by the miracle of his resurrection and of all creation's redemption.
John Updike has an essay on Incarnation, and while it is on the Gospel of Matthew, his observation applies to the entire gospel narratives, where "two worlds are colliding. Jesus overthrows common sense ... and declares an inversion of the world's order." In his words:
"Jesus declares an inversion of the world's order, whereby the first shall be last and the last first, the meek shall inherit the earth, the hungry and thirsty shall be satisfied, and the poor in spirit shall possess the Kingdom of Heaven. This Kingdom is the hope and pain of Christianity; it is attained against the grain, through the denial of instinctive and social wisdom and through faith in the unseen."
So, the question for today is: are you brave enough to be a Crazy Dog? Jesus spent most of his ministry promoting "Crazy Dog" thinking - urging his disciples to join with him in this wild ministry of faithfulness and fulfillment. The Kingdom of God, Jesus insisted, would be filled with Crazy Dogs - people who believe the first are last, the greatest are the least, the strong are the weak, and the meek win it all. People who are willing to serve.
The problem is that the church often forgets all this and falls into patterns that may not resemble Jesus. We are to trust God, not our own ideas, but the truth is we are more comfortable rebuilding all those wrong roads to faith that Jesus spent so much time trying to alter. Too many times, we are like the scribes: we want to wear "long robes" too, so that we will be recognized as righteous and respectable. We would rather live so that we might receive honor and recognition in the "marketplace," the "temple" and at "banquets," rather than risking ourselves and our status by being like Jesus and his upside- down views on faith.
The church needs to regain this upside-down thinking. Think of the texts we have heard since Christmas. Jesus being baptized when he did not need to be, choosing fishermen as followers, leaving his home town of Nazareth for Capernaum. Jesus gives the Beatitudes, truly crazy blessings. And last week, calling us to be two simple things in the world: salt and light. And of course, today, the first step to Jerusalem.
Jesus was always asking "why not" - why not associate with tax collectors? Why not heal a Gentile’s daughter? Why not pick up a few grains on the Sabbath? Why not ride "triumphally" into Jerusalem on the back of a colt instead of on a war-horse? "Why not" is a response that opens the door for change.
Jesus called his twelve disciples and all their successors, including us, to be followers, people of faith who refuse to give yesterday's answers to today’s problems. We are called not simply to observe what is happening all around us. We are called to be followers of Jesus in a world that is constantly changing. We need to ask "why not,” more often, and re-set our spiritual compasses so that we are pointing north. Jesus asks us to do that. His disciples did. Paul did. And we start by building on what is known to create something new.
I believe that we have to adopt a “crazy dog” mentality in the church.
Rachel Held Evans, who died at the beginning of the pandemic, argued that many people, but mostly millennials, are not looking for new stylized changes in the church. They are not looking for the coolest band or the hippest pastor, but rather, are looking for a sense of authenticity and openness in their faith communities. She also said: “We are not walking away from the church because of the cost of discipleship, we are walking away because of racism and other prejudices.”
In other words, we need to get out of the way so that God can work, focusing on what the early church did: welcoming the stranger, offering hospitality.
And why? Today is the Transfiguration and on Wednesday we begin Lent. Peter wanted to stay, build a few tents. And when you think of it, it would have been a nice place to stay. Why come off the mountain? It is an easy answer: to share with others what we know and experience.
Moses didn't remain on the mountain.
Elijah had to leave that cave.
Jonah eventually went to Nineveh.
Jesus didn't build booths on the Mount of Transfiguration.
If any of them had stayed, the “illumination” they gained and experienced would have never been shared with the world. The easy way is not the “Crazy Dog” way.
Soon we enter Lent, a time to tune our spiritual practices. It is a time with repentance, and fasting, and acts of faith. And it begins with ashes as a sign of God’s love. Let’s use these next 40 days to be “Crazy Dogs,” and reset our spiritual lives. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria.
5 Epiphany (Year A)
Matthew 5
St. John’s, West Seneca
February 8, 2026
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
There is a new Tee shirt that reads: BE SALTY; STAY LIT.
That’s the gospel message boiled down to four short words. I could stop, but of course, there is more.
We take salt and light for granted. Salt is everywhere today. One of our sayings is that when we are skeptical we should take something with “a grain of salt.” It is on our tables, in our pantries, in so much of our food that we now search for labels for salt information, and food items are labeled as being “no salt,” or “low salt.”
And the varieties. Besides table salt, there is Kosher salt, sea salt, Celtic gray salt, pink Himalayan salt, Fleur de sel, Hawaiian red or black salt and I once had a bourbon smoked salt. Some are for flavor, some for finishing a dish.
It was not always so. Salt was once precious commodity. In the first century world, salt was extremely valuable and it served a variety of important purposes. So important was it that the Romans had a saying: There is nothing more useful than salt and sun. And of course, today we refer to those who follow Jesus as “the salt of the earth.”
Here are a few of its uses:
- Salt was used as wages instead of coinage; our word “salary” comes from salt.
- Salt was also best known as a preservative. Before refrigeration, salt foods were the lifeline to survival when fresh foods became scarce. Salt’s ability to act as a preservative – giving life to all it permeated – led the Old Testament prophets to use salt as a symbol of the eternal covenant God made with the Hebrew people, and this is referenced in Leviticus, Numbers, and 2 Chronicles.
- Salt was used as a disinfectant. Putting “salt into a wound,” is not just a saying; it’s painful as well as being effective.
- Salt seasons our food.
- There are accounts of salting the earth. In the ancient Near East, there was a custom of purifying or consecrating a destroyed city and cursing anyone who dared to rebuild it. This was a widespread account, but historical accounts are unclear as to what the sowing of salt meant in that process. Various Hittite and Assyrian texts speak of ceremonially strewing salt, minerals, or plants, one which produced a type of lye. Biblically, it does appear. In Judges Abimelech, one of the judges sowed his own city – Shechem – with salt, after defeating a coup that had been led against him.
There's a Latin proverb, quoted by Cicero (De Amicitia, 19, 67) that goes, "Before you trust a man, eat a peck of salt with him." "Eating salt" is a metaphor for crying together or sharing pain or trial with another. And we have a God who "eats salt" with us.
As for light, it is literally at our fingertips. But it was not that way for our ancestors, who lived with less light. But for us, to be in a place where it is truly dark can be frightening, disorienting.
I remember one Christmas arriving in Minneapolis well into the night. My sister was there to pick me up. This was when you could go to the gate and meet the person you were waiting for, so pre-9/11, The airport was filled with light, and music, and the sounds of reunions. But once we passed out of the Cities proper unto Highway 12, the darkness was overwhelming. We passed through small town after small town. A few street lights here and there, but there was nothing open. The spaces between the towns, nothing but black. I remember feeling overwhelmed. If any of you have been in a cave or on a trail without a flashlight, you know the feeling. Or going down into the dark basement, fumbling for the circuit breaker panel; you know the feeling.
But when the light comes, you know it. It brightens everything. That is what Jesus comes to do today and every day.
We know that we are to be salt and light. We know that. But it is one thing to know that and quite another to claim that identity. And then living it? However, we must if we want the kingdom of heaven in the here and now and not just in the future. We all want to get to heaven, but for Jesus, part of our task is to bring heaven to earth. You do it with salt and light, flavoring the world and reflecting light into the darkness. That is the yardstick for a Christian.
A professor from Luther Seminary, who once described snow as “God’s unnecessary freezing of rain” wrote this: “God is righteous. God sees the poor in spirit. Discipleship is not just a certain way of being in the world, but an ultimate way of being in the world. Matthew has high standards for discipleship. The sooner we realize this, the better. Somebody has to set the standards.”
Yes, these are high standards. If we are to be the “salt of the earth”, as well as a city on a hill, giving light, how do we do it? What is a Christian practice? Who are we and what are we to do? Are we simply to be agreeable, good to be around, adding a bit of spice to a gathering? Should we always carry a flashlight?
The salt of the earth are the ones who offer hope and not despair; they are the ones who volunteer and show up ready to do more. The salty among us take things under advisement, and in the process, lift up the rest of us. You will not hear a salt of the earth person use the seven last words of the church: “We’ve never done it that way before.” Rather they are eager to try something new, and if it doesn’t work, go on to the next project. No lamenting, no complaining. We know that it is our duty to build, not tear down. And with that attitude, we do change the world.
As for light, it isn’t just what we do; it is who we are when we belong to Christ. Just as the sun doesn’t try to shine — it just does — we, too, are to radiate God’s truth and love. “It’s interesting that in John 8:12, Jesus refers to himself as the 'light of the world.' He calls his disciples the 'light of the world.' This is not reflected light. This isn’t light bouncing from a transfigured Jesus…As the brothers and sisters of Jesus and as children of God, it is in our DNA to be light and shed light wherever we are. Rather amazing, when you think about it.”
“There's a story about a troubled mother who had a daughter who was addicted to sweets. One day she approached Gandhi, explained the problem to him and asked whether he might talk to the young girl. Gandhi replied: ‘Bring your daughter to me in three weeks' time and I will speak to her.’
"After three weeks, the mother brought her daughter to him. He took the young girl aside and spoke to her about the harmful effects of eating sweets excessively and urged her to abandon her bad habit.
"The mother thanked Gandhi for this advice and then asked him: ‘But why didn't you speak to her three weeks ago?’
"Gandhi replied: ‘Because three weeks ago, I was still addicted to sweets.’
"And there's the lesson: We must do more than just point out the right road to others, we must be on that road ourselves. For this reason, the integrity of our private lives and private morals, down to the smallest detail, is the real power behind our words.”
So what do we need to do? In four words: BE SALTY, STAY LIT. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria.
Second Epiphany (Year A)
John 1: 29-42
St. John’s, West Seneca
January 18, 2026
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
What were they looking for, those who came out to see John the Baptist? He had been preaching for some time, and still they came. His appearance was compelling, but once you’ve seen a man wearing camel’s hair, you’ve seen it. No, they came for more. They came because they desperately wanted to hear the good news. And they wanted to be baptized as a sign of their new life.
Today John announces that Jesus is the “Lamb of God,” not once, but twice.
The second time John is with two of his disciples, and after John calls Jesus the “Lamb of God,” they follow him.
And then Jesus asks the question we still need to ask: What are you looking for? They want to know where he is staying. And then his answer: Come and see.
What are we looking for?
I imagine that many who followed Jesus were looking for one thing or another.
As Jesus’s ministry begins, there may have been only that small group of disciples. But as Jesus’s reputation spread, there were crowds all around him with various diseases and ailments. They were looking for healing.
As Jesus became more popular, there were the religious authorities who began to question his theology and orthodoxy. They were looking for a fight.
As the miracles increased, there were the crowds of groupies, so to speak, because after all, at times it created a spectacle. They were looking for entertainment.
What are we looking for?
I maintain that a great many are looking for Jesus, for God, for the divine in their lives -- even if they don't realize it. The answer to Jesus's soul-searching question, "What are you looking for?", can't be brought home from a religious store. Each one of us has a hole in the heart that only God can fill.
Jesus knew there were a lot of wrong reasons as well as wrong ways for spiritual searches. Our world is filled today, as then, with fake Christianity that proposes no sacrifice. When Jesus confronted these two would-be disciples with his question, "What are you looking for?", the answer he received may sound strange to us, but it was actually a pretty good start.
"Rabbi," they replied, "where are you staying?" "Teacher," they were saying, "let us join with you and be your students." When Jesus responds to this address and request, his answer is that compelling invitation, "Come and see."
How do we invite others to “come and see?” Last week, Pastor Dean made a remark about this church, saying there is a difference between members and disciples. Membership is like a club, with dues. Martin Luther had something to say about that.
“…The church is not merely an association of outward ties and rites like other civic governments, however, but it is mainly an association of faith and of the Holy Spirit in men’s hearts…This church alone is called the body of Christ, which Christ renews, consecrates, and governs by his Spirit.”
Discipleship is service. And as Dietrich Bonhoeffer maintained, there is a cost to discipleship. It can be a hard and narrow way.
And discipleship is not a one time event. Growing your soul, filling your spirit with the right things is a lifelong process, and often a painful one.
I found this from the late Pope Francis about being disciples, and he suggests:
“a kind of preaching which falls to each of us as a daily responsibility. It has to do with bringing the Gospel to the people we meet, whether they be our neighbours or complete strangers. This is the informal preaching which takes place in the middle of a conversation, something along the lines of what a missionary does when visiting a home. Being a disciple means being constantly ready to bring the love of Jesus to others, and this can happen unexpectedly and in any place: on the street, in a city square, during work, on a journey.”
When you put it like that, it should come naturally. As St. Francis said 800 years ago: Preach the Gospel. Use words if necessary.
The world needs disciples. God is calling you.
In another article, Lutheran scholar Peter Marty talked about words that we should avoid, and warned they might not be what you expect.
“When it comes to the work of shaping Christian community, words and phrases matter. How people come together, stay together, and live expressively depends on language that inspires belonging and faith. Some words and phrases do this well; others miss the mark so considerably that I sometimes think they should be banished from a congregation’s vocabulary. …
"Visitor. Nobody entering a church deserves to be labeled a visitor. Newcomers may be guests in the house of the Lord, but they’re not visitors. Visitors are people who sit on makeshift bleachers in high school football stadiums, looking up at impressive crowds across the field whooping it up. In most settings, visitors hold second-class citizenship. …
"Attending church. Organizations that survey religious practice often chart trends of people attending worship. But when you attach yourself to a faith community, you’re not an attendee. Rubbing shoulders with people with whom you may have nothing in common except your humanity and God, but whom you’re willing to let impact the shape and substance of who you are, means it’s time to speak of belonging. …
"Family. It’s great to have ministries that serve families, but try not to speak of your congregation as a family. No matter how intimate your faith community is, you don’t want it to be a family. That metaphor doesn’t work. Families are closed social units. Remember that first introduction to the relatives of someone you love or loved? No matter how confident you were, or how warm and genuine that family was, some part of the early encounter was awkward, intimidating, or uncomfortable. …
"I could go on, but I will spare you. Wait, just one more: Join us for … This no-no is an easy slip that creeps into announcements. Unless you’re cultivating clubbiness, try a more open invitation for all to join in an activity.”
We are a church. We are not a club for social activities. We are not here to make money. We are not here to be entertained. This is not a game. This is not a place for you to be exalted, but for Christ to be exalted. We are here because we do believe that God is active in the world, that in Him there is forgiveness, wholeness, and ultimately, life eternal.
We are here to listen to His word and to receive the sacrament, to confess our sins and know that they are forgiven. We are here to then go out into the world and be a “little Christ” to everyone we meet. And we had better be taking Jesus’s words seriously: Go therefore and make disciples.
I was reminded this past week that Martin Luther King Jr. said “I have a dream.” He did not say “I have a strategic plan.”
My dream is that we remain a beacon for the lost, the left-out, and the looked over. We will never run out of work because God’s work is not done. Nor is our spiritual journey ever done.
“We live in a world that is as multicultural as the Galilee of the Gentiles, and our challenge is to create places in which people can come and see Jesus. Everything we do should help people to see him as clearly as the two disciples of John did by the Jordan River, and as Philip and Nathanael did on the road to Galilee. In our fractured and polarized world, we don’t need more arguments about religion and politics. Instead, we need to create places in which people can have personal encounters with Jesus."
Lives will be changed if we show people where Jesus is staying and encourage them to remain with him. The words of Jesus are always an effective invitation: “Come and see.” Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria.
Homiletics, January 18, 2026
Baptism of Our Lord (Year A)
Psalm 29
St. John’s, West Seneca
January 11, 2026
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
“If you want to feel small and powerless, take a fishing boat into the ocean, miles away from land. There is nothing but sky and water as far as the eye can see. As Samuel Taylor Coleridge wrote, “Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink.”
The ocean appears enormous, deep and mysterious from your tiny boat. You can grasp that we live on a watery planet with three-fourths of the Earth’s surface covered by water. When a storm rolls in, you face powerful winds, massive waves and driving rain.
Back in the early 1960s, Adm. Hyman Rickover gave President John F. Kennedy a small brass plaque, engraved with a prayer. Kennedy liked it, and he used it at the dedication of a memorial to people missing at sea. The prayer says, ‘O God, thy sea is so great and my boat is so small.’”
We have all been lost at sea, in a tiny boat, perhaps not literally, but lost none the same.
What would you do if you were lost at sea? Pray, apologize, atone, confess? I imagine one or all of those.
But we can pray at any time, in any place, and for anything. Perhaps this may even serve as a reminder to do just that. We don’t have to be adrift on the ocean to come up with resolutions on what we need to do to get ourselves right with God. Of course, as you and I know, there are far more heartfelt prayers in the Emergency Room than even here.
“A young man named Alec Frydman recently went fishing for albacore off the coast of Washington State. This was his first attempt to be a commercial fisherman after taking a Coast Guard course at a community college. He headed out with a captain named Mick on a 43-foot wooden boat constructed in 1941.
"Their fishing went well on the first day, but a storm blew up on the second. They put the boat on autopilot and headed back toward land. When waves began to crash over the sides of the boat, Alec reached for the radio and sent out a Mayday. Alec urged Mick to come outside, but the captain remained frozen in his seat. Then Alec fell overboard, into the ocean.
"He was living the words of Psalm 69: “I have come into deep waters, and the flood sweeps over me.
"Bobbing to the surface, Alec saw the inflatable life raft in its canister, floating nearby. He yanked the rip cord, inflated it and climbed in. The wooden fishing boat rolled onto its side and then sank quickly. Alec never saw Captain Mick again.
"‘The life raft was small but sheltered,’ recalls Alec in The Atlantic magazine, ‘like a kiddie pool but sturdier, and with a camping tent on top. The sides shuddered in the wind and rain, but I felt relatively safe inside. Certain that rescue was coming … I fell asleep.’
"When he awoke, the storm was still raging... He took inventory of his supplies and shot off two flares. But there was no one to rescue him, so he floated for days under dark, stormy skies. The sea was so great and his boat was so small.
"‘I prayed often,’ he says, ‘always aloud. At first, pleas for rescue. Over and over, I asked God to save me — not my soul, but my physical self. After days of praying the same prayer, I tried offering God something in return. First, I apologized for every past transgression I could remember. Any injustice or sin I feared I may have committed, I tried to atone for, so God would listen to my prayers.’
"Alec recalled the Ten Commandments and realized that he had failed to keep them. ‘I hadn’t honored the Sabbath in years,’ he admits; ‘I had lied; I had coveted; I had stolen. Worst of all, I hadn’t honored my mother and father.’ He asked God to forgive him for the way that he had treated his parents, ignoring their guidance and insisting that he could figure out everything on his own. Alec came to the depressing conclusion that he was going to lose his life, and his parents were going to lose their son.”
Alec was truly “at sea,” a term we use to describe a variety of situations. The literal meaning is that we are like Alec, riding in a ship or a boat, physically floating on the water. But the figurative meaning of “at sea” is that we are confused or perplexed, in a place that we do not understand. We often feel lost, or bewildered. Perhaps we are facing a situation that seems to have no answers. Or we just don’t understand. We’ve all been there, maybe not like Alec in the Pacific, but in school, or a job, or a relationship.
The good news is this: As the Psalmist says, God is with us, looking for us.
“After five or six days of drifting, Alec saw a ship and launched a flare, but the ship kept going. By the end of the first week, he ran out of fresh water, and he accepted the fact that he was going to die. But instead of falling into despair, something amazing happened. Alec says, ‘A peace I hadn’t known to look for found me.’
"He hadn’t been looking for peace, but peace found him.
“The next morning, Alec woke up and saw a boat. It was close and coming closer. He lit his last flare and held onto it until it burnt his hand. He screamed and waved his hands, looking and sounding like a madman.
"Then he heard a person say, ‘We see you. We’re coming. We see you.’”
He had been at sea for 13 days and had drifted about 150 miles
And that is where the Psalm for today tells us a powerful truth. When we are lost at sea, with chaos all around us, God finds us and gives us peace.
“The voice of the LORD is upon the waters,” says the writer of Psalm 29. God has power over the watery chaos of life and can offer us the gifts of his peace and powerful presence when we feel we have no options available to us. In our most desperate situations — at school, at work and at home — God is with us. We are not alone. That is the promise, that God has power of all creation.
We celebrated Epiphany on Tuesday, which means a new season is upon us. An epiphany is a moment of insight, when something comes into view. This season should show us who Jesus is, each week a new insight as to what God is up to.
In today’s text, it is the baptism of Jesus. A ritual of water, along with God’s voice…
Then John the Baptist who calls Jesus the Lamb of God…
Walking by the Sea of Galilee, he calls men familiar with water as they are fisherman: Simon and Andrew, James and John…
Then come the Beatitudes…
And as the Sermon on the Mount continues, Be salt and light in this world.
And then to the mountain and God’s voice again.
In Jesus, we see the clearest sign of God’s power. “Jesus is nothing less than living proof that God is with us. Jesus is like the person on the boat who called out to Alec and said, ‘We see you. We’re coming. We see you.’”
That is the work that we continue today as disciples of Christ. As we are His body, it is our holy task to see and reach out and rescue. We are to be that presence. As Theresa of Avila wrote: “Jesus has no eyes but our eyes, no hands but our hands, no feet but our feet.”
“When a person is feeling lost at sea, we can say, ‘We see you.’ When people are facing fear and confusion, we can say, 'We’re coming.' When there are situations that seem insurmountable, we can say: 'Let’s work on this together.'”
Like Alec, we’ve all been lost at sea. Maybe not in the ocean deep, but in our everyday lives. God is with us in the stormy waters, looking for us, listening to us, and giving us strength and that peace that passes all understanding. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria.
Homiletics for January 11, 2026
4 Advent (Year A)
Matthew 1
St. John’s, West Seneca
December 21, 2025
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
Years ago, at Holy Trinity’s Lenten series, one of the local pastors spoke about Joseph on appropriately, St. Joseph’s Day. The gist of his sermon was how Joseph, the earthly father of Jesus, is a man who should be considered and emulated for his faith to God and his devotion to Mary.
Joseph may be the original average Joe. A regular guy with a regular job who finds himself in what seems like a bad situation.
But we know that Joseph was far from ordinary. This quiet man, who doesn’t speak, is a forgotten man of faith. He was chosen by God to be the provider for His son. And while he does not say a word, his actions speak volumes about obedience and faithfulness, even courage.
Matthew begins: “Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be pregnant from the Holy Spirit.”
Who knows what Joseph’s reaction was? Hurt, heartbroken? He is determined to do the right thing. He resolved to divorce her with as little gossip as possible.
But God had another plan for this average Joe and so an angel comes to him in a dream. “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him: "he took her as his wife…” He offers no argument and there is no delay. Joseph believes and simply does.
We need more like Joseph today. He stands as a symbol of faith because while his plans – no doubt well laid – fall through, God steps in with another task.
This past week, I came across this story on FACEBOOK. I’ve seen it several times, and I believe at least one person here has reposted it.
"Martha, a retired nurse, shared this. '…for five decades, I was the last face people saw before they left this world, and the first face they saw when they came back to it. I was an ER nurse in a city that doesn't sleep, where the sirens never stop.
"I remember the day I realized the world had gotten its priorities backwards.
"It was Career Day at a local high school about five years ago… I looked around at the other presenters. It was intimidating.
"To my left was a tech entrepreneur, wearing a hoodie that probably cost more than my monthly mortgage, talking about ‘disrupting the market’ and ‘scaling synergy.’ To my right was a corporate lawyer in a sharp Italian suit, handing out glossy brochures about intern programs. There was a financial planner flashing a laser pointer at a graph showing compound interest.
"The kids were mesmerized. They were terrified of debt, hungry for status, and desperate to know the formula for being ‘Someone.’
"Then there was me.
"I walked in wearing my old comfortable scrubs and my stethoscope around my neck. I didn't have a PowerPoint. I didn't have a ‘brand.’ I just had a badge that was scratched from years of use and hands that were dry from a thousand washings.
"When it was my turn, the room went quiet. I didn't stand behind the podium. I walked right up to the bleachers.
"‘I’m not here to tell you how to make your first million,’ I said. My voice shook a little, then steadied. ‘I’m here to tell you what it feels like to be the only person awake in a terrifyingly quiet hallway, listening to the rhythm of a ventilator, praying for a stranger’s lungs to expand just one more time.’
"The kids stopped scrolling on their phones.
"‘I’m here to tell you about the smell of fear,’ I continued. ‘And I’m here to tell you about the specific, holy silence that falls over a room when a doctor calls the time of death. I want to tell you what it’s like to hold a mother as she screams, and what it’s like to wash the body of a homeless veteran with the same tenderness you’d give a king, simply because he was a human being and he deserved dignity.’
"I looked them in the eyes.
"‘It isn't glamorous. You won’t get a corner office with a view of the skyline. You will come home with aching feet and a broken heart more often than you’d like. But I promise you this: You will never, ever wonder if your work mattered.’
"The shift in the room was palpable. The questions they asked the tech guy were about stocks and salaries. The questions they asked me were different.
"‘Do you ever get scared?’ a boy in a varsity jacket asked. ‘Every single shift,’ I said.
"‘Do you cry?’ a girl in the front row asked. ‘I cry in the car. I cry in the shower. I cry because I care,’ I answered.
"After the bell rang and the gym cleared out, a skinny boy with messy hair lingered behind. He looked down at his worn-out sneakers, kicking at a scuff mark on the floor.
"‘My dad is a janitor,’ he whispered, almost like it was a secret he was ashamed of. ‘At a big office building downtown. People walk past him like he’s invisible. Like he’s part of the furniture.’
"He looked up at me, his eyes wet. ‘He comes home so tired. But he says he keeps the place safe. He says he stops the germs so the business people don't get sick.’
"I reached out and took that young man’s hand. ‘Son, listen to me. Your dad is a hero. The world stops spinning without people like your dad. We have enough 'visionaries' in corner offices. We don't have enough people willing to do the hard, invisible work that actually keeps civilization running. Taking care of people? Cleaning up the messes? That is everything.’
"We live in a culture that is obsessed with titles. We teach our children that success looks like a verified checkmark next to their name or a salary that creates envy. We praise the disruptors and the influencers.
"But let me tell you something about the real world.
"When the power grid fails in a winter storm, a résumé won’t save you. An electrician will. When the pipe bursts and floods your basement, a diploma won’t save you. A plumber will. When your child burns up with a fever at midnight, your stock portfolio won’t save you. A nurse will.
"We have forgotten the nobility of service. We have forgotten the sacredness of the ‘essential.’
"Last winter, I received a letter. It was from that boy with the messy hair. He’s not a boy anymore.
"'Dear Martha,' it read. 'I almost dropped out. I thought I wasn't smart enough for college, and I didn't want to be invisible like I thought my dad was. But I remembered what you said about dignity. I’m an EMT now. Last week, I saved a guy who had a heart attack on the subway platform. Nobody asked me for my business card. I just did the work. Thank you for telling me it mattered.'"
This woman wrote that she wept because this young man got it. So for those chasing the dream, stop chasing the “American Dream.” The question isn’t “what do you want to be?’ It’s “who do you want to help?”
Change the metric. And that is where Joseph comes in. He is the quiet man of the Incarnation. He is essential.
- "Joseph stays.
- He takes Mary as his wife.
- He embraces the shame and whispers from others.
- He raises a Son who is not biologically his.
- He teaches Jesus the trade of carpentry.
- He protects his family when Herod threatens.
- He moves his household to Egypt in obedience to another dream.
In a culture where honor, bloodlines and male pride were everything, Joseph lays all that down to do the will of God.”
Of course we need visionaries. But those visions have to run on something and that’s where the average Joes and Janes come into the picture. The people who get things done: at home, at work, and here, in this place. In the new year, let’s get to work doing the tasks that need to be done.
If you think about it, God’s metric is different from ours. God’s kingdom has always been built on the regular people, whether old or young, able to speak eloquently or not, sometimes not even the oldest son, but rather the eighth, like King David. God chooses the ordinary and makes that person extraordinary.
This week it is Joseph, a carpenter from Nazareth. And, as will be said in John’s Gospel: “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” The answer is yes. Let us all resolve to be a Joseph: faithful, obedient, courageous. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria.
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