Sermons from St. John’s Episcopal Church

From the propers this week, Father Harris explores the social nature of our faith and the true source of spiritual defilement: our hearts. Ultimately it is our interior condition that generates the actions that either build up or divide our common life. The fear-driven, externally-ordered, rules-based purity of the Pharisees is undone by the persistent and faithful Canaanite woman: a holy heart is tested and revealed through trial, grace, and patience. Ultimately, we are called away from judging outward appearances to attend to the interior state of our souls.

From the propers this week, Father Oliver Butler reflects on how unexpected moments of joy and grace break through life's storms, challenging our tendency to stay safe in our comfort zones. From hearing "Merry Christmas" in a hospital elevator in the summer time to a memory of jumping into rain puddles with his daughter, Father Butler reminds us that joyful risk-taking is the pattern of the Gospel story of Peter walking on water. Rather than viewing Peter's eventual sinking as a personal failure of faith or a moralistic warning, the miracle lies in Peter's initial willingness to step out of the boat into the chaos. Jesus's presence and salvation are not dependent on our flawless performance, but on His relentless willingness to reach out and rescue us when we falter.

From the propers this week, Father Harris reminds us that human life is a pilgrimage through the wilderness. He examines how modern comfort often obscures our deep, innate longing for home until life's inevitable crises break through. This sermon teaches that our Christian vocation requires two vital responses when the floor falls out beneath us: to courageously wrestle with God for a blessing and to extend generous hospitality to others despite our own feelings of scarcity.

From the propers this week, Father Harris takes us on a whirlwind tour through Jesus’s rapid-fire parables from mustard seeds and hidden treasures to drag nets sorting fish. But behind these vivid images lies a radical question: what are you actually giving your life to? Weaving together the Old Testament story of Jacob, Leah, and Rachel with ancient Christian wisdom, this sermon dives into why moral self-improvement isn't our ultimate end, but simply the groundwork that makes room for real, transformative joy. Tune in for a challenging, deeply insightful wake-up call to cut through modern chaos, clear out the clutter of fleeting desires, and go all-in on the truest treasure of the world.

From the propers this week, Father Harris tackles the age-old frustration with parables: why can't Jesus just be direct? It turns out, the cryptic nature of these stories isn't a hurdle but an invitation to the hard work of cultivating our inner lives. The field isn't just the world out there, but the complex terrain within each of us, where good and evil grow tangled together. The message is both humbling and liberating: we cannot make ourselves perfect, and our anxious efforts to tear out our flaws often do more harm than good. Instead, Father Harris calls us to trust the Master of the field with our moral development, to discern wisely but without anxiety, and to let the images of Scripture reorganize our thinking. It is a message to have faith whilst we make our pilgrimage up Jacob's ladder.

From the propers this week, Father Harris takes us into the chaotic, restless sea, the symbol of primordial disorder that God is always in the process of ordering. The parable of the sower discloses three conditions of the soul that hinder our reception of God's scattered seeds: the hardened soul that has stopped listening, the shallow soul that springs up with joy but cannot endure hardship, and the divided soul choked by cares and the lure of wealth. But rather than treating these as separate categories of people, they are stages along a pilgrimage; parts of the spiritual journey that we all must make. We begin hard and self-protective; we pass through trials that test our roots; and we constantly fight against the thorns of anxiety and beguilement. The key, he insists, is not finding the right textbook or teacher, but cultivating an interior disposition of attentiveness; an abiding inclination to love, such that we might bring our desire for understanding to the altar and to wade into the tossing sea with Jesus.

From the propers this week, Mother Laura Warner Gilmer takes up the Apostle Paul's honest confession in Romans that choosing righteousness is far harder than simply deciding to do it. Why? Because there is war going on within each of us. Pairing Paul's struggle with the well-known Native American parable of the two wolves, she gently pushes the wisdom further: the question isn't only which wolf we feed, but which wolf we're fed by. What desires, what definitions of success, what sources of identity are we allowing to sustain us? With her characteristic warmth and wit, Mother Laura reminds us that every choice carries an invoice that will come due. While we will all fall short, we are called to strive for the better part, the kinder approach, the more considerate response. And she leaves us with Bob Dylan's unmistakable refrain: you're gonna have to serve somebody. The only real question is which master we'll serve.

From the propers this week, Father Harris reflects on the universal human cry, "I just want to know what to do," through the lens of Saint Matthew's sudden, life-changing decision to leave his tax booth and follow Jesus. Exploring our tendency to seek happiness in quick fixes or misplaced security, Father Harris addresses the deep anxiety of feeling lost or disconnected from the leader of our spiritual journey. Ultimately, we have been offered a profound comfort: even when we lose sight of the way forward, Jesus is paying attention to us, and his timeless invitation to follow Him is personalized for each of our lives.

Acts 2:1-21. Pentecost is God’s plan coming together, which means people coming together.

John 14:15-21. The Holy Spirit is not a mystery to be understood but a gift to be received.