November 9, 2025
27th Sunday after Pentecost
Proper 27/C Veterans’ Sunday – Mark S. Winward
Hope Beyond the Battlefields of This World
Introduction
Today’s Gospel recalls the exchange between Jesus and the Sadducees—a conversation about life beyond this world, about what endures when all else is lost. The Sadducees, who denied the resurrection, posed a question about marriage to ridicule belief in life after death. But Jesus’ reply revealed a deeper truth: that the life of the world to come is of a different order entirely—one that transcends the limitations and pain of this world.
It is fitting that this Sunday’s lectionary readings fall close to Veterans Day, or Remembrance Day as it is known elsewhere, marking the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month when the guns of the Great War fell silent in 1918. On Veterans Day we remember those who gave “the last full measure of devotion,” and this morning we bring their stories to the foot of the cross, where death is defeated and hope takes root.
The Reality of This World
The Great War took a staggering toll—ten million dead, nearly forty million wounded or missing. Humanity had advanced the science of destruction but not yet the compassion of healing. On the battlefields of Flanders, red poppies bloomed among the graves, and they became the enduring sign of remembrance—a fragile reminder of a shattered world.
Job knew something of that desolation. He lost his family, his home, his health. His friends offered empty words; his wife said, “Curse God and die.” Yet out of that anguish, Job made one of Scripture’s boldest affirmations: “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth.” Even amid ruin, Job claimed resurrection hope—the faith that God’s justice and love would yet have the final word.
The Nature of Heaven and the Promise of Resurrection
Jesus’ reply to the Sadducees reminds us that heaven is not a continuation of earthly life but its transformation. “Those who are considered worthy,” he says, “are like angels”—not because they become angels, but because they are caught up into a new reality of being, where love is perfected and fear is no more. Heaven is not the extension of our struggles; it is the fulfilment of our redemption.
That truth lies at the heart of the Gospel. The cross wasn’t merely a tragic ending—it was the collision between God’s justice and love. The resurrection is the creative explosion that follows—the triumph of divine mercy over human cruelty. Without Christ’s resurrection, our remembrance of each of us would be despair; with his resurrection, our remembrance becomes hope.
No Greater Love
Jesus said, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” Those words echo in the hearts of those who have served. Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, and Marines have not only fought for their country but for one another—for that “band of brothers” bound by a love stronger than fear.
Many of you have known that kind of love, or borne its cost. Across the beaches of Normandy, the mountains of Korea, the rice paddies of Vietnam, the sands of Iraq, and the plains of Afghanistan echo the pleas of those who paid the ultimate price for our freedom: “Earn this.”
The question for us, then, is how we live in response to such sacrifice. Do we live as people whose freedom was dearly bought—with gratitude, humility, and service to others? How do we honor those who laid down their lives except by living lives worthy of their gift?
Hope for the Living and the Dead
The Sadducees’ vision saw nothing beyond the futility of this world, but Christ calls us to a greater hope. The same love that led him to the cross leads him still—to raise the fallen, to comfort the broken, to bind up the wounds of the world. Those who have borne arms in defense of others, who have risked their lives for peace, participate—however dimly—in that divine love.
And so, today we remember: not only the dead but the living; not only the battles fought but the peace they longed for.
This morning, as our offertory anthem, we will hear the majestic poem by Sir Cecil Arthur Spring-Rice, I Vow to Thee, My Country, which captures such love beautifully:
I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above,
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love;
The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,
That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.
And there’s another country I’ve heard of long ago,
Most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;
We may not count her armies, we may not see her King;
Her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;
And soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase,
And her ways are ways of gentleness, and all her paths are peace.
Love of country—love that never falters and pays any price—resonates with tones of that heavenly country, our true home. What ennobles those we remember, and those who have dedicated their lives in service to God and country, is selfless service—the very essence of heaven.
Conclusion
On this Veterans Sunday, as we honor the courage of those who served and remember the cost of freedom, let us also look beyond the grave to the God who redeems all things. For our Redeemer lives. He stands upon the earth, and because He lives, so shall we. My prayer is that our lives may, in gratitude and service, bear witness to that irresistible love which is stronger than death.
Amen.
October 26, 2025
Proper 25 – Katharine Armentrout
The Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax Collector
This morning Jesus is talking to “some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous”.
And he tells us this familiar parable about the self-righteous Pharisee who recites all his good deeds to God and makes clear that he is not like other sinners and certainly not like that tax collector over there.
One writer said the Pharisee’s recitation was like a “personal progress report or, to use a new phrase, it is a “humble brag!”
And the Pharisee’s recitation reminded me of that old country song by Mac Davis: “Oh Lord it is hard to be humble when you are perfect in every way.”
But.. the fact is that he does fast more than required under Jewish Law and he does pay more tithes than are required.
And, he assures those who listen, that he isn’t like “ other people” – those thieves, rogues, adulterers, and certainly not like the Tax Collector over there. ,
But… the problem with his prayer is that it really isn’t a prayer as you and I might think of one.
A prayer is ordinarily addressed to God with a heart-felt request or a deep offer of thanks for God’s blessings.Instead he recites proudly his righteous deeds, using the first person pronoun “I” five times in just a few sentences.
October 19, 2025
Sara Miller-Schulte
Jesus told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart.
He said, “In a certain city there was a widow who kept coming to the judge and saying, ‘Grant me justice against my opponent.’ And for a while he refused; but later he said to himself, ‘You know, because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice.”
And Jesus said, “Will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night?”
And we who have itching ears make this into a story about how God will give us what we want if we just pray until something happens.
But God is not the unjust judge.
The Lord said, “Listen to what the unjust judge says:
He says, ‘Though I have no fear of God — that’s a clue — and no respect for anyone, yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice.”
Justice is easy.
In fact, in granting the widow justice, the judge is making a ruling on her case; He is doing his job.
He is doing the barest minimum of what one might be moved to call a good work. So in describing this judge, Jesus is not saying something about God — he is saying something about us.
Earlier in Luke’s gospel, Jesus says, “Is there anyone among you who,
October 5, 2025
St. Francis of Assisi – Katharine Armentrout
“But God said to him: ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be? So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God?’” Luke 12:20-21
I imagine that St. Francis, or as he was known as a young man, Francesco, had those words of our Gospel in his head as he tore off his rich silk clothes and ran naked through the town of Assisi.
He was determined to leave the world of wealth and power he had been born into and to take up his life, following the teachings of Jesus, always asking himself: What would Jesus do?
Because one thing we know about Francis – he always asked that question that was so popular in our 1990s: ”WWJD” What would Jesus do? What would Jesus do?
As a young man Francis had long felt a call to follow Jesus. He had entered the army, convinced that he was called to serve God in that way.
Unfortunately, he was captured, imprisoned and became very ill. He father, a wealthy merchant, ransomed him and brought him home.
After recovering from his illness Francis decided to follow Jesus by devoting himself to serving the poor and tending to their needs, as Jesus had done.
One day, he entered a tiny, ruined chapel for a prayer time.