Kindness, Mercy, and Justice – Br. James Koester

Br. James Koester

Preached at the Church of St. Augustine and St. Martin, Boston, at the annual Homecoming Service.

Martin of Tours

Matthew 25:31-40

It should come as no surprise that I have been thinking a great deal about St. Martin over the past week. In part that’s because I’m preaching today as we keep his feast. In part that’s because I have spent many hours in our archives pouring over our collection of material related to this parish. That, I admit, has been more fun than working on the sermon!

In the back of my mind, as I have been looking at old photographs and various documents, there are several questions. One is obvious. Who are some of these people? I hope when you see them, you can help answer that one. The other question is, Why Martin? Augustine, I get. We founded two parishes in South Africa: St. Philip’s and St. Cyprian’s in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, about the same time as this parish. Philip was instrumental in introducing the Ethiopian court official to the Christian faith, and Cyprian, like Augustine, was a bishop in north Africa. (It was this Philip, by the way, who was this parish’s first patron. The Sunday school room opened in 1882 on Beacon Hill was called St. Philip’s Mission. The name was later changed to St. Augustine’s.) But why Martin? Read More

Sin, So Tedious; Love So Enduring – Br. Curtis Almquist

Luke 7:36-50

Most of us, most of the time, do not need anyone else’s help for us to judge ourselves poorly. We are well apprised of how we have missed the mark, perjured ourselves, once more done or said those things we have ought not to have done or said, and not done or said those things we should have. Momentarily we will be invited to make a personal, corporate confession of our sin. We will just plough ahead with this. What is so pathetic is we need not be asked for a show of hands, whether time for confession would be helpful. The ancient liturgy of the church – without benefit of having personally surveyed either you or me – presumes the state of things in our soul, and that, yet again, our personal confession of sin would be both helpful and necessary for most all of us. The distinctive quality of confessions, in my experience, is that they are so tedious and boring.

Jesus judges this woman about whom we hear in today’s Gospel lesson. Jesus judges her. Jesus puts a face to God’s judgment, and it is a judgment of love. It is not a judgment of ridicule, or rejection, or hopelessness, or boredom, or eternal condemnation, but rather a judgment of love.

This woman is a known person. It’s her again. We can presume that Jesus is also a known person. It’s him again. She did not pick Jesus at random. She knows something about him, most likely has heard him teaching, seen him healing before. What she is doing, down on her knees, is making her confession with alabaster oil and tears. It’s an extravagant confession, as is her known sin. No words from her are recorded. What’s to say? It’s her again. Most significant in this Gospel story is not whether Jesus bears God’s love, nor whether Jesus bears God’s love for this woman. Jesus has said that before, and she has heard it. The question – her question – is whether Jesus still loves her? Yes, he still loves her. He still loves us.