Category: Sermon
The Overflowing Fire of Love~The Rev Frank Bellino,OPI
If we are being completely honest, Trinity Sunday is a day that makes a lot of preachers nervous. Too often, it gets treated like an annual, abstract geometry lesson full of dusty definitions and dry formulas, leaving everyone in the pews feeling detached from the mystery. But if we pull back the curtain and look at the real human story behind these scriptures, we find something far more raw, intimate, and urgent. The mystery of the Trinity wasn’t revealed in a pristine, quiet university classroom to scholars who had life completely figured out. It was revealed directly in the trenches of human vulnerability and struggle. Look at Moses in our first reading from Exodus. When he climbs Mount Sinai early in the morning, he isn’t carrying a victory trophy; he is carrying replacement stone tablets because the people had just completely blown it with the Golden Calf. He is leading an exhausted, rebellious, “stiff-necked” people, and he is bone tired. Look at Nicodemus in the Gospel of John. He encounters Jesus under the cover of night because he is terrified of what others will think. He is a prominent religious leader hiding in the shadows, surrounded by intense political and social tension, carrying a heart full of unspoken questions, doubt, and paralyzing anxiety.
The story behind the story is that God deliberately chooses to reveal the deepest mystery of His inner life precisely when we are at our lowest, our messiest, and our most afraid. Many of you walked through the doors of St. Michael’s today carrying that exact same weight. You might be carrying the heavy regret of a recent spiritual failure, like the wandering Israelites, or you might be hiding an overwhelming anxiety in the dark, like Nicodemus. And what is the Veritas—the divine Truth—that meets us in that darkness? On that mountain, God doesn’t descend in the cloud to shout a list of rigid rules, point fingers, or condemn a broken nation. Instead, He stands with Moses and proclaims His very Name, which means He reveals His core, unchanging character: He is a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger and rich in kindness and fidelity. Centuries later, Jesus takes that revelation to its absolute peak for Nicodemus, handing him the master key to reality: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son.”
This brings us to the very reason for the Trinity—the divine “why” behind this great feast. Scripture tells us that God is love. But think deeply about the nature of love: love fundamentally requires an “other.” If God were a solitary, isolated, single person sitting alone in eternity before the universe was created, He could not have been love, because there would have been no one to love. He would have been a God of cosmic isolation, perhaps a God of raw power or a God of ego. But our faith proclaims something radically different. The reason God is a Trinity is because God is an eternal, dynamic relationship. Before the world ever existed, God was already a perfect community of love. The Father is the one who loves; the Son is the one who is beloved; and the Holy Spirit is the living, breathing bond of love that flows eternally between them. God is a Trinity because God is, in His very essence, an infinite and perfect family.
This is where that profound divine Truth catches fire with the power of the Charisma. Because the inner life of the Trinity is an eternal explosion of love, it simply cannot keep itself contained. Love, by its very nature, demands expansion. God didn’t create the universe because He was lonely or needed us; He created us out of sheer generosity so that His existing family love could overflow and have more people to share it with! That love overflowed into creation, it overflowed in the cloud on Sinai, it overflowed on the wood of the Cross, and it overflowed in a violent rushing wind and tongues of flame at Pentecost. The Holy Spirit is the unquenchable, living fire of that Trinitarian love, and that same Spirit was breathed directly into you at your Baptism. You are not passive bystanders standing on the shoreline, looking at an abstract painting of the Trinity; through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, you have been pushed directly into the dynamic current of God’s inner life.
This is why this Mass is so incredibly important to us today. We live in a culture that is hyper-connected digitally but deeply isolated, lonely, and fractured. People are starving for authentic relationships and belonging. The Trinity is the ultimate community, and God’s greatest desire is to bring you into that divine family so that you never have to walk alone again. As a parish, we cannot experience this divine fire and remain the same. Saint Paul gives us the practical blueprint for living out this Trinitarian life when he exhorts the Corinthians to mend their ways, encourage one another, agree with one another, and live in peace. We cannot do that by our own human grit or willpower, but we can do it by tapping into the active fellowship of the Holy Spirit who dwells within us. The gifts of the Spirit, the praise that fills this church, and the Veritas we proclaim are all meant to turn us into a living icon of the Trinity for a broken world. God did not send His Son into the world to condemn your mess, your past, or your struggles. He sent Him to save you by inviting you out of the shadows and directly into the Fire of His family love. So let’s stop watching from the shoreline. Today, let’s dive deep into the endless sea of His mercy.
The Fragrance of Veritas: Celebrating the Translation of Our Holy Father, St. Dominic~The Rev Frank Bellino,OPI
On May 24, the Order of Preachers throughout the world pauses to celebrate a unique and profound event in our history: the Translation of our Holy Father, St. Dominic. In the tradition of the Church, a “translation” refers to the formal movement of a Saint’s remains from one location to another. For the Dominicans, this occurred in 1233 in Bologna, Italy, twelve years after St. Dominic’s death. Under the supervision of Blessed Jordan of Saxony—Dominic’s successor—and in the presence of numerous friars and dignitaries, the original modest tomb was opened to move the founder to a more fitting marble sepulcher. It was at this moment that a miraculous, sweet fragrance, described by witnesses as unlike any earthly perfume, emanated from the tomb and filled the air.
This historical event holds immense significance for the Order of Preachers, Independent (OPI). It serves as the physical fulfillment of St. Dominic’s deathbed promise to his brothers:
“Do not weep, for I shall be more useful to you after my death than I was in life.”
The “sweet fragrance” was understood as a divine sign that Dominic’s intercession remained active and that his charism—the preaching of Truth (Veritas) for the salvation of souls—was being blessed and expanded by the Holy Spirit. For the Order, this feast is a reminder that we are not merely preserving a memory; we are participating in a living mission that continues to bear fruit in every generation.
Within the life of The Order of Preachers, Independent, and all of us who are beholden to St. Dominic, the Translation of St. Dominic offers a powerful spiritual lesson. It teaches us that the “fragrance” of a life lived with integrity and faith does not dissipate with time. As a community, we are called to live in such a way that our actions—our service to our families, our neighbors, and our country—leave behind a lasting legacy of kindness and truth. It also reminds us that “transitions” in our own lives, though they may involve change and movement, are often the moments where God’s grace becomes most visible to the world around us.
As we honor this feast, we renew our commitment to the Dominican spirit of contemplation and action. Like our Holy Father, St. Dominic, may we strive to be people of the Word, ensuring that our lives are a “pleasing sacrifice” that brings the sweetness of God’s mercy to all we encounter. By standing firm in our faith and our duties, we ensure that the light of Truth continues to shine brightly in our parish and beyond.
The Most Important Day of the Year~The Rt Rev Michael Beckett,OPI
Y’all…..You know how I go on and on, teaching and preaching about Jesus commanding us to love, and folks falling short of that, and how we’re posta be good to folks, and all that? Today’s bit of sermonizing is a bit different, coz TODAY is a LOT different! Last week I talked about “If Then” statements, and we’re gonna hit on that again, because today we celebrate the single most important day in Christendom.
Today we celebrate the Feast of the Ascension. The Books of Acts, Luke, and Mark all tell us that Jesus and his disciples went up to the Mount of Olives where Jesus reminded his folks what they needed to do, blessed them, and then, he was physically lifted up into the sky where he kinda disappeared into the clouds. Talk about making an exit!
And this, my friends, is the single most important day of the year. Think about all those big, huge, oh so very important days we celebrate: Christmas. Easter. Pentecost. Feast Days marking this that and the other great occurrences in our faith history. Without the Ascension, those days wouldn’t mean anything at all. Christmas? We celebrate Christ’s birth. Of course, think about all the other “birthdays” we celebrate. Every person who has ever lived has had birthdays. In the grand scheme of things, while important to us as individuals, our birthdays aren’t necessarily a cause of worldwide celebration. Most of us just aren’t that important.
Easter? Now, granted, Jesus being raised from the dead is a Pretty Big Deal. However, it’s not unique in history. Think about it. Without celebrating today’s importance, Jesus’s resurrection is no more important than that of those folks Elijah and Elisha raised, or Lazarus of Bethany, or the widow of Nain’s son, or Jairus’s daughter, or Tabitha, or any and all of those other folks who made an encore appearance when Jesus rose from the dead on Easter.
Yeah, it was a pretty great thing that Lazarus was resurrected, as well as those other folks who popped out of their tombs when Jesus did, but super important??? Not so much. Why, you ask? THEY DIED AGAIN and stayed that way. They all got up and did whatever it was that newly un-unalived people do, and then, when it was time, they died. Again. Jesus? He did not. He. Did. Not.
And as promised, here come those If/Then statements. If Jesus had not ascended into heaven, proving yet again that he was who he said he was, then Christmas would mean nothing. If Jesus had risen from the dead, only to have died again and stayed dead a few years later, then it wouldn’t amount to a hill of beans.
St. Augustine, the great fifth century theologian, called the Ascension the most important Christian festival of the year, more important than Christmas, more important than Pentecost, even more important than Easter. (See, told ya. It’s not just me!) For the ascension reminds us just how high Jesus was raised, and what that means. Aquinas states:
‘This is that festival which confirms the grace of all the festivals together, without which the profitableness of every festival would have perished. For unless the Saviour had ascended into heaven, his Nativity would have come to nothing…and his Passion would have borne no fruit for us, and his most holy Resurrection would have been useless.’
What Saint Augustine says here resonates with the passage in Ephesians 4:10, where Saint Paul says that ‘He who descended is he who also ascended far above all the heavens, that he might fill all things’ – i.e.; that by ascending into Heaven, and taking our human nature up with Him into the heavenly places, He completed the process of redemption by reclaiming His place as rightful sovereign of the universe, so that He might be present to us in a different way. If He had not so returned, the process would not have been completed, and as Jesus said in John 16:7, ‘it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you’.
The gospel writer Luke is renowned as a careful historian. When he recorded the birth of Jesus he rooted the event in its historical setting within the Roman Empire. He continues that same preciseness at the end of our Lord’s earthly ministry by recalling the place of the Ascension – at Bethany. He dates the event – 40 days after the resurrection on Easter Day. He emphases the presence of eyewitnesses – the Ascension took place he writes “before their very eyes” (Acts 1:9). Yes, the Ascension was a real event of history.
Some people are puzzled as to why Jesus waited around on Earth 40 days after his resurrection, but that period is no accident, and Jesus had things to do.
Jesus had endured the Devil’s temptation for 40 days in the wilderness at the beginning of his public ministry, but now the tables were turned. In the period after Jesus’ resurrection, He triumphantly paraded his victory over Satan. During this time, the conqueror of death displayed his supremacy before his faithful followers so that they might share in the joy of his victory. But there was another reason. Those 40 days of his appearing after the resurrection were of immense value to the believers, for they established the reality of his lordship. A single sighting of the risen Christ may have been open to question, but his continuous encounters with the disciples and others would remove the doubts of the most skeptical among them and assure them of his power and authority.
The resurrection of Jesus marked the ending of a chapter in his earthly life. Things could never be the same again, and it was essential that there should be a clear-cut event to bring that particular chapter to a close. It’s true that Jesus was making a series of appearances to his followers, but they couldn’t go on forever.
It would have been odd if Jesus’ post-resurrection appearances had grown fewer until finally they just stopped – that would only cause confusion and even loss of faith. No, there had to be a single, miraculous occurrence, separating the time when the Jesus of Earth would become the Christ of heaven. The Ascension was the only fitting conclusion to the life of Jesus on Earth.
Luke tells us of the disciples with their eyes straining to catch the last glimpse of the cloud bearing up their Lord. But then they were quickly brought back to earth. It would seem that with their eyes heavenward they didn’t notice the two heavenly beings that slipped quietly alongside them until they spoke: “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking unto heaven?”, as if to remind the disciples of the work that they had been given to do. The angels, for angels they were, had to tell the disciples to get to business.
And so it is with us. Ascension Day reminds us of the Mystery of Faith: “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.”
Christ will come again. And as we await the “coming again” of Christ, we, like the disciples, have a job to do, business to attend to, things he commanded us to do. In Matthew 28:18-20, Jesus says, “Go to the people of all nations and make them my disciples. Baptize them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and teach them to do everything I have told you. I will be with you always, even until the end of the world.”
Now, most of us don’t have the time or money or intestinal fortitude to “go to the people of all nations”, so where do we start? (Oops. Looks like I’m gonna do it, even though I said today was gonna be a bit different, but we know how I am, so here we go…..) So, again I ask, where do we start? In John 13 Jesus says to us, “But I am giving you a new commandment. You must love each other, just as I have loved you. If you love each other, everyone will know that you are my disciples.” Love. Each. Other. We are to continue to change the world in the work that Jesus has given us to do by helping others to see Jesus through and in us, by showing that love that he demonstrated, by bringing that love to everyone.
Jesus told us to love everyone. Love. Everyone. Period. Not just those whose politics are the same as ours. Not only those whose religion is the same as ours, not only those whose lifestyles are the same as ours. The least, the lost, the forgotten. Work for peace. Work for equality. Work for justice.
Love. Everyone. Period.
Come Lord Jesus. Amen.
The Chosen Replacement: The Feast of St. Matthias the Apostle~The Very Rev Lady Sherwood, OPI
Today, we gather to celebrate a man who lived most of his life in the shadows of giants, only to be called into the light by a roll of the dice—or rather, by the mysterious providence of God. We often think of the Apostles as a fixed “dream team,” but the story of St. Matthias reminds us that the Kingdom of God is dynamic, resilient, and always moving forward. After the tragedy of Judas Iscariot, there was a hole in the heart of the Twelve. To the world, that empty seat looked like a failure, a permanent scar on the mission of Christ. But to the early Church, it was a space waiting for God’s next move, proving that while individuals may falter, the Divine plan remains unshakeable.
What is most striking about Matthias is his unwavering presence. When Peter stood up to find a replacement, the criteria were strict: it had to be someone who had been with them from the very beginning—from the baptism of Jesus by John until the day of the Ascension. This means Matthias was there all along, a silent but steadfast companion in the background of the greatest story ever told. He was there for the feeding of the five thousand. He likely heard the Sermon on the Mount firsthand. He may have been one of the seventy sent out in pairs to heal and preach. Yet, his name is never mentioned in the Gospels. He was a faithful follower who didn’t need a title or a spotlight to stay committed to the Master. His life asks us a difficult question: Are we willing to serve God in the “unnamed” seasons of our lives? Matthias proves that God is watching our consistency even when the world isn’t, and that the “quiet” followers are often the ones God prepares for the greatest tasks.
The Apostles cast lots to choose between Matthias and Joseph called Barsabbas. While it looks like a game of chance to the secular eye, it was an act of total surrender to the Holy Spirit. They were saying, “Lord, we’ve done our homework and assessed the candidates, but the final decision is Yours.” Matthias didn’t lobby for the position. He didn’t campaign for votes or highlight his qualifications. He simply stood ready. When the lot fell to him, he stepped into a role that promised no earthly glory—only the certainty of persecution, the rigours of travel, and the heavy weight of the Great Commission. He reminds us that our true “call” isn’t about our personal ambition; it’s about our availability to God’s will.
We all face “empty seats” in our lives—roles we are suddenly asked to fill, shoes that feel far too big for us, or unexpected transitions that leave us feeling ill-equipped. St. Matthias teaches us that preparation happens in those hidden, quiet years of service. Your current faithfulness in small, unrecognised things is preparing you for a future call you cannot yet see. God fills every void; no betrayal, loss, or vacancy can stop the mission of His Church. Ultimately, success in the Kingdom is measured not by fame, but by witness. Matthias’s primary job was to be a witness to the Resurrection. Our job is exactly the same: to show a weary world that Christ is alive through the way we love, the way we serve, and the way we remain faithful when no one is looking.
A Prayer for the Feast of St. Matthias:
Heavenly Father, You chose Saint Matthias to share in the office of the Apostles, ensuring that the saving message of the Gospel would reach the ends of the earth. We thank You for his quiet faithfulness and his humble readiness to serve when called from the shadows. Lord, grant us the same spirit of steady devotion. When we feel overlooked or hidden, remind us that You see our hearts and value our presence. When we are called to step into new responsibilities or difficult transitions, give us the courage of Matthias to say “yes” without hesitation. May we, like him, be true and living witnesses to the Resurrection of Your Son in everything we do. Help us to fill the gaps in our own communities with love, to mend what is broken by grace, and to always trust in Your divine providence rather than our own luck. We ask this through Christ our Lord, Amen.
I Will Not Leave You Orphans: The Gift of the Advocate~The Rev Frank Bellino,OPI
My dear brothers and sisters, our journey through the Easter season brings us today to a pivotal moment in the fourteenth chapter of the Gospel according to John. We are back in the Upper Room, in that sacred and somber space between the Last Supper and the Cross. Jesus is delivering what we call the “Farewell Discourse,” and He is speaking directly to the anxiety of His friends. He sees their hearts breaking at the thought of His departure, and He gives them a truth to cling to: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always.” It is here, in John 14:18, that He speaks the words that anchor our celebration today: “I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.” This is not just a vague sentiment; it is a legal and spiritual promise. In the ancient world, an orphan was the most vulnerable member of society, but Jesus promises that His followers will never be without a Defender.
By identifying the Holy Spirit as the Advocate or the Parakletos, Jesus is describing someone “called to one’s side.” As we celebrate Mother’s Day and honor the Blessed Mother in this month of Mary, we recognize that this scriptural role of “Advocate” is the very definition of motherhood. Just as Jesus promised the Spirit would be a “Spirit of Truth” and a “Consoler,” our mothers are often the first ones to teach us the truth of our dignity and the first ones to console us in our sorrow. This Gospel passage reminds us that when a mother advocates for her child, she is participating in the very work of the Holy Spirit. Whether she is teaching us to pray or standing by us in our failures, she is a living sign that God’s promise—to never leave us as orphans—is fulfilled in our daily lives.
We see this promise most perfectly realized in the “Yes” of Mary, our Mother and the Queen of our Dominican Order. At the foot of the Cross, Jesus extended this promise to all of us. When He looked at the Beloved Disciple and said, “Behold your mother,” He ensured that the Church would always have a maternal Advocate in heaven. This is the source of our hope, especially for those whose mothers have passed into eternal life. The Gospel of John assures us that the Spirit of Truth “remains with you and will be in you.” This means that the love and faith passed down by our mothers in heaven is not a memory of the past, but a present reality. They continue to advocate for us before the Father, ensuring that we are never truly alone.
Jesus concludes this portion of the Gospel by telling us, “On that day you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in me and I in you.” This is the “abiding” love that defines our faith. To honor our mothers today—and to honor the Blessed Mother—is to live out the commandment Jesus gives in this passage: to love one another with a sacrificial, abiding heart. As we move from the Liturgy of the Word to the Liturgy of the Eucharist, let us ask the Holy Spirit, our Advocate, to strengthen the mothers of our parish and to keep us all united in the Truth.
Mary, Mother of the Church and Mother of the Word, pray for us. Holy Spirit, our Advocate and Guide, abide in us. And to all our mothers—those here and those in glory—may God bless you for showing us the face of His love.
The Pillar of Truth: Honouring St. Athanasius~
The life of Saint Athanasius of Alexandria stands as an eternal testament to the power of a single soul anchored in the Divine. Known to history as the “Father of Orthodoxy,” his path was defined by a singular, unwavering focus: the preservation of the true nature of Jesus Christ.
In an era where the Arian heresy threatened to unravel the very fabric of the Church by denying the divinity of the Son, Athanasius stood as a solitary bulwark. His lived experience was one of radical sacrifice; he spent over seventeen years of his life in exile, hunted by emperors and misunderstood by peers, yet he famously declared, “If the world is against Athanasius, then Athanasius is against the world.”
This was not a cry of arrogance, but a profound commitment to the reality that the Truth is not subject to the whims of the majority.
Athanasius understood with perfect clarity that our salvation depends entirely on the Incarnation. He taught that if Christ were merely a created being, He could not bridge the chasm between the Creator and the created. “He became man,” Athanasius wrote, “that we might become divine.” This transformative hope was worth every hardship, every cold night in the Egyptian desert, and every moment of isolation.
His resilience serves as a vital mirror for our own lives today. We often face pressures to dilute our convictions or to blend into the cultural landscape for the sake of comfort.
Athanasius challenges us to consider what we are building our foundations upon. Are we swayed by the shifting winds of popular opinion, or are we rooted in the ancient, Apostolic faith that has survived empires and outlasted every storm?
To honour Athanasius is to embrace the “long obedience in the same direction.” It is a call to intellectual rigour, spiritual fervour, and a courage that does not flee when the cost of discipleship rises. Even in his darkest hours of banishment, Athanasius remained a shepherd, writing letters of encouragement and composing treatises that continue to light the way for the faithful centuries later.
Let us draw strength from his example, remembering that even when we feel outnumbered or overwhelmed, the Word of God remains sovereign. Like the Great Bishop of Alexandria, may we find our peace not in the approval of the world, but in the steadfast confession that Christ is truly God and truly man, our Saviour and our King.
A Solemn Prayer for Truth and Fortitude:
Almighty and everlasting God, You raised up Your servant Athanasius to be a valiant champion of the faith and a witness to the glory of Your Son. We yield You hearty thanks for the courage he displayed and the wisdom he bequeathed to Your Church throughout the ages.
I pray, O Lord, that You would grant us, who are part of the order he inspired, and all the faithful, a portion of his unwavering spirit. In a world of uncertainty and shifting shadows, steady our hearts upon the rock of Your unchanging Truth. When we are tempted to compromise, grant us Your strength; when we are weary from the struggle, grant us Your peace.
Let the light of the Incarnate Word guide our every thought and action, that we may live as faithful stewards of the mysteries You have revealed.
Strengthen our resolve to contend for the Gospel with both charity and conviction. May our lives reflect the beauty of the Truth we profess, so that in all things, Your holy Name may be glorified.
Through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen.
Dignity in the Workshop: St. Joseph’s Blueprint for Faith~The Very Rev Lady Sherwood,OPI
Today we honour St. Joseph not as a silent figure in the background, but as a man of action whose hands shaped the world. In the quiet rhythm of his workshop, Joseph transformed labour into a form of prayer, teaching us that our daily work—no matter how humble—is a primary way we participate in God’s ongoing creation. He reminds us that dignity is found in diligence and that our “everyday” is holy ground.
St. Joseph did not seek recognition; he sought faithfulness. In our modern world, we are often pressured to define ourselves by our status, our titles, or the size of our paycheck. Yet, Joseph’s life tells a different story. He shows us that there is profound holiness in the mundane—in the sweeping of a floor, the fixing of a door, or the patient tending to a task. He didn’t just work to live; he worked to love, providing for the Holy Family with a heart tethered to the Divine. His workshop was not a place of drudgery, but a sanctuary of service where the Son of God learned the value of a day’s honest toil.
This feast day invites us to examine our own relationship with our vocations. Do we see our tasks as burdens to be endured, or as opportunities to serve? Joseph’s silence in the Gospels speaks volumes about his character; he didn’t need words to justify his existence because his actions testified to his devotion. He accepted the responsibility of protecting and providing for Mary and Jesus with a steady hand and an unwavering spirit.
As we reflect on his life, let us find purpose in our own tasks, offering our sweat and skill as a living sacrifice to the Lord. Whether we lead, build, or serve, may we do so with the same quiet strength and integrity that defined the Carpenter of Nazareth. Let us remember that when we work with integrity, we are not just earning a living; we are echoing the creative power of God. May we strive to make our workplaces spaces of justice, kindness, and excellence, mirroring the workshop of Nazareth in our own communities.
Let us pray:
Heavenly Father, We thank you for the example of St. Joseph the Worker. Grant us the grace to approach our daily tasks with a spirit of service and love. We pray for those who find no meaning in their labour, that they may discover the hidden dignity within their roles. Support those who are seeking employment and protect those who labour in difficult or dangerous conditions.
Bless the work of our hands and the intentions of our hearts, that all we do may bring glory to your name and comfort to our neighbours. Through our efforts, may your kingdom come and your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Amen.
No Ifs, Ands, or Buts~The Rt Rev Michael Beckett,OPI
Y’all…….I know that many of you are as appalled, disgusted, mortified, and, dare I say, angry, as I am as a result of a few of the things that have occurred/been posted and said by a few of the “leaders” of our country here in recent months.
What’s bothered me even more by all of this is the reaction of far too many folks who have spoken out, at worst, in support of all of this, or at best, endeavored to excuse it; ones who profess to follow the tenants of Christianity and who profess to love our Lord, far too many of whom are clergy.
Sadly, however, this is nothing new. Think of the “Christians and Clergy” who were in favor of slavery during the Civil War period. Think of those who supported Hitler. Think of those who were involved in opposing the Civil Rights Movement.
Going even further back, Jesus himself commented on these things. In the gospel reading appointed for today, the Gospel according to St. John, Jesus says:
“Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever does not enter a sheepfold through the gate but climbs over elsewhere is a thief and a robber. But whoever enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens it for him, and the sheep hear his voice, as the shepherd calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has driven out all his own, he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him, because they recognize his voice. But they will not follow a stranger; they will run away from him, because they do not recognize the voice of strangers.” Although Jesus used this figure of speech, the Pharisees did not realize what he was trying to tell them.
So Jesus said again, “Amen, amen, I say to you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate.
Whoever enters through me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. A thief comes only to steal and slaughter and destroy; I came so that they might have life and have it more abundantly.” John 10:1-10
In a nutshell, public readings of the Bible, well advertised “prayer meetings”, the selling of politically branded Bibles, and religious leaders stumping for and in support of the current political powers have nothing, NOTHING to do with being a Christian or following Jesus. In fact, Jesus warns us in Matthew 7:15 to “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous.”
“Ravenous.” Hungry. For power. Money. Influence.
As I have said, and will continue to say, if whatever is being preached, whatever is being taught, whatever is being said, does not echo the very teachings of Jesus, then it is anathema, antiCHRISTian, and flat out wrong. Don’t do it, don’t believe it, don’t live it.
And yes, there will be those who say, “But what about…the exception is…..what if…..” And I say to you, no, Jesus says to them, “I am the way, the truth, the life. No one comes to the Father but by me. No ‘if’s, ands, or buts.” (OK, so Jesus didn’t say, “No ifs, ands, or buts”—that was my momma talkin’ there, but still…)
Whatever we believe does not reflect the teachings of Jesus, cannot be done in love, i
f one’s politics, beliefs, actions, thoughts, and way of life deny the least, the lost, the forgotten, if one’s religion opposes acceptance and practicing radical love, if one does not welcome the stranger, feed the hungry, and work towards that oft used “and justice for all” thing, then one is not, cannot, will not, be a follower of Jesus. If
Period. No ifs, ands, or buts. Amen.
The Call of the Word: A Homily on St. Mark the Evangelist~The Very Rev Lady Sherwood,OPI
Beloved, we gather today to celebrate the feast of St. Mark, a man whose life reminds us that the greatest stories are often written by those who start in the shadows. Mark was not one of the original twelve, yet his contribution to our faith is foundational. He was a witness to the witnesses, a tireless companion to Paul and Peter, and the first to commit the “Good News” to written form.
Mark’s Gospel is unique in its urgency. He uses the word “immediately” over and over, painting a portrait of a Christ who is constantly on the move, healing, teaching, and marching toward the Cross. For Mark, the Gospel was not a static philosophy to be debated; it was a fire that had been lit in the world—a fire that required an immediate response. This urgency teaches us that when God moves, the world changes instantly, and our obedience should be just as swift.
We see in Mark a journey of resilience. Early in his ministry, he faced failure and desertion, causing a rift between Paul and Barnabas. Yet, he did not allow his past stumbles to define his future. He matured, reconciled, and eventually became so vital to the mission that Paul later requested his presence in prison, calling him “profitable for the ministry.” Tradition even suggests he was the young man who fled naked from Gethsemane—the ultimate image of a “messy” beginning transformed into a pillar of the Church.
The Church symbolizes Mark as a winged lion, representing the “voice crying in the wilderness.” This reminds us that the Gospel is a roar of truth meant to awaken the world. However, Mark also reminds us of the “Messianic Secret,” showing that Christ’s glory is inseparable from his suffering. We do not just follow a miracle worker; we follow a Suffering Servant.
Mark teaches us that being a disciple doesn’t require perfection; it requires persistence. Whether you are a scholar of the Word or a seeker in the pews, you are called to be an evangelist in your own sphere. Like Mark, we are called to take the raw, often messy experiences of our lives and translate them into a testimony of God’s grace.
The Emmaus Mystery:The Story Behind the Story ~The Rev Frank Bellino, OPI
We have heard the account of the Road to Emmaus thousands of times; it has been immortalized in our hymns, captured in famous paintings, and dramatized on the big screen. It is easy to treat it as a beautiful, pious memory. But if we look at the 3rd Sunday of Easter (Cycle A) with fresh eyes, we must ask: what is the real story behind the story? When we strip away the familiar Sunday School version, we find a narrative that is raw, tense, and deeply relevant to the world we walk in today. Consider the scene: two disciples are walking seven miles away from Jerusalem. In the wake of a state execution and the chaos of an empty tomb, Jerusalem was a powder keg. As followers of a man just crucified as a criminal, these disciples were essentially “wanted” by association. Imagine their internal state. They are talking, processing their grief, and suddenly, a total stranger joins their stride. In a world of Roman informants and religious zealots, wouldn’t you be concerned? Wouldn’t you be looking over your shoulder, wondering if this “stranger” was an undercover guard sent to round up the rest of the group? This wasn’t a casual stroll; it was a walk defined by caution and a heavy sense of defeat. They were walking away from their dreams because, as far as they were concerned, the story was over.
This leads us to a deeper mystery: why did Jesus do it this way? If He wanted to prove He was resurrected, why not appear in a flash of blinding light? Why the secrecy? Why did He “prevent” them from recognizing Him at first? Jesus wasn’t playing a game of hide-and-seek; He was performing spiritual surgery. He kept His identity veiled so that these disciples would have to listen to the Word before they looked at the Wound. He wanted their hearts to burn with the truth of the Scriptures before their eyes were dazzled by His glory. He spent those seven miles teaching them—and us—that He is present even when He is “unrecognizable.” He was training them for an era of faith where we would no longer see Him physically but would find Him in the opening of the Scriptures and the Breaking of the Bread. If at the end He was going to tell them anyway, the “long way around” served to prove that the journey of faith is just as vital as the destination.
So, why does a “secret walk” from 2,000 years ago really matter to us today? It matters because we are all on a seven-mile walk. We all have moments when the world feels dangerous, when our hopes feel shattered, and when we are tempted to close ourselves off from the “strangers” around us. This Gospel is not just a great story to pass on for thousands of years; it is a direct challenge to how we live our lives. We are called to an “Emmaus Shift”—to realize that Jesus often meets us in the unrecognizable, the unexpected person, or the mundane moments of our week. We are called to be a people of the “Burning Heart,” coming to the Word not just for information, but for an encounter that changes our direction. Our ultimate call is to see Christ in the “Breaking of the Bread” on this altar and then to be His presence for others.
The disciples didn’t stay in Emmaus. Once their eyes were opened, they ran back to Jerusalem in the dark to tell the others. When we leave St. Michael’s today, we don’t just go back to our routines; we go out to patrol the faith, looking for the Risen Lord in the faces of our neighbors and the challenges of our city. The “meat” of this Gospel is that the walk isn’t over—the Savior is walking right beside you. The question remains: will you recognize Him?
The Order of Preachers, Independent 
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