Category Archives: Sermons

Sermon–Where is hell? September 30, 2018


19 Pentecost—Proper 21-B/ September 30, 2018

William Bradbury

Numbers 11:4-6,10-16,24-29, Psalm 19:7-14, James 5:13-20, Mark 9:38-50

Since our Gospel mentions it three times, we need to talk about hell. Some of us were taught by clergy and parents that hell is a real place in which God throws rebellious human beings, so that they can be punished for their sins. This hell is a place of conscious physical and psychological torment which lasts forever. Dante’s Inferno in the Middle Ages seared images of this hell into the psyche of the world. I remember reading it first in college and being struck by the image of the ring of hell where a man gnaws on another man’s head. The church promoted this view of hell because it assumed it was a deterrent to sin—“if you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.” Continue reading

Sermon–Stereotypes or Reality–September 9, 2018


16 Pentecost—September 9, 2018

William Bradbury

Isaiah 35:4-7a, Psalm 146, James 2:1-17, Mark 7:24-37

The name of Spike Lee’s new movie is “BlacKkKlansman”, which is funny, while at the same time edge of your seat exciting, and at the end emotionally draining, yet oddly encouraging. This true story is set in the 1970s when Colorado Springs hires their the first Black policeman, named Ron Stallworth, who then teams up with two white detectives to infiltrate the local chapter of the Ku Klux Klan, as the Klan plots hatred and violence. Continue reading

Sermon–Living with a Defiled Heart–September 2, 2018


15 Pentecost—Proper 17-B, September 2, 2018

William Bradbury

Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9, Psalm 15, James 1:17-27, Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

They say that facts are stubborn things! Today Jesus gives us a fact that is as stubborn as a stone: Jesus says, “Listen to me, all of you, and understand…For it is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come. All these evil things come from within, and they defile a person.” He goes on to list some of those evil intentions that come from the human heart, listing both hot sins like adultery and murder and cold sins like envy and slander, so everyone can find themselves in the list and realize he is talking to us and not just to those people over there. Continue reading

Sermon – August 19, 2018



13 Pentecost

August 19, 2018

Sermon from Rev. Bruce Nickerson, Deacon

John 6:51-58

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our creator, redeemer and sustainer.

In a small nearby parish, a mother and child, maybe 3 years old, came to church every Sunday.  The cute red haired freckled kid would hold his mother’s hand as they walked down the center aisle of the small sanctuary to the communion rail. The little boy dutifully crossed his arms over his chest, looked seriously and reverently at the rector as she knelt down to give him a blessing, then turned his head looking wistfully and longingly at his mother as she received some bread and wine.  One Sunday, as the small boy held his mother’s hand walking from the rail back to their pew, he turned around and wailed, loudly, “I want some Jesus.”

You might notice that I give bread or wine to anyone who holds out their hand.  Even to infants.  To Men, women, adults, kids, infants. At the jail Father Bill and I give the sacrament to murderers, thieves, drunk drivers, addicts, sex offenders, and anyone who comes to us with hands outstretched.

Some parents of young children and infants sometimes say to me “I want them to be old enough to understand what is happening.”

Curbing my innate sarcastic sense of humor, I feel like asking them “And you do?”

Can any of us understand today’s Gospel?

It is difficult for many of us with its striking and startling imagery. No wonder the Jews were upset saying “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”

But these words and actions in today’s gospel are strikingly familiar. We say them and act them out at every Eucharist:

“The body of Christ, the bread of heaven,” and then we eat a piece of bread.

“The blood of Christ, the cup of salvation,” and then we sip a bit of wine.

Do you understand this?  I don’t.

In the immortal words of Buffalo Springfield (remember them?):

“There’s something happening here

What it is ain’t exactly clear…”

There are many interpretations of Jesus’ words “eat my flesh and drink my blood.” These words got early Christians in trouble with contemporary Jews. For Jews, the ingesting of blood is especially repugnant.  Jewish dietary laws say [Leviticus 7:26 that] “you shall eat no manner of blood.” Jesus’ words this morning would be, and still are, very bothersome to Jews. And for us as well.

Many of us here are not “cradle Episcopalians” and have taken communion in other churches.  Given our backgrounds, experiences, and participation in other churches, what will we think in a few minutes as we kneel for communion and eat this flesh and drink this blood?

My faith journey, not yet over, began in a very conservative evangelical church.  Next I became a Presbyterian Calvinist singing only the Psalms with no musical instruments.  Then came a period of non-church. Next I became an Episcopalian.  And at last, gasp, an ordained deacon!

Each of these experiences offered differing views of the sacrament and what it means to eat Christ’s body and drink his blood.

Perhaps many here have similar experiences and can identify with one or more of the following interpretations of today’s gospel:

Some say and believe that “the bread and wine in the sacrament of the Eucharist, become, in reality, the body and blood of Jesus Christ. The manner in which the change occurs is a mystery.”

Other groups affirm that the Eucharistic bread and wine remains physically bread and wine, while becoming spiritually the body and blood of Christ.

Not sure how this differs much from the previous belief system, and I suspect it’s an Anglican or Protestant attempt to avoid getting confused with people who hold the previous belief.

Some groups suggest the Eucharist is a kind of extended metaphor.  A few weeks ago in Father Bill’s Bible study at the prison, he suggested just that- an extended metaphor. One of the guys responded, and said as he pointed to the crucifix on the wall behind the altar, “for me it’s no metaphor, it’s Him.”  (Bill, last Thursday I confirmed it was the guy I thought it was!)

As a child, communion in my church was once a month.  It was viewed as a memorial of Christ’s supper with his disciples, much like a birthday, or the anniversary of a loved one’s death.

After the preaching, singing, some choir presentations and prayers, the minister placed on a table a tray of little cups of grape juice and another tray of soft white bread cut into little cubes. On the front of the table, which was used only once a month at communion services, were carved the words, in big gothic letters: “This Do In Remembrance of Me.”  The minister, using words very similar to those in the Episcopal liturgy, would consecrate the wine and bread which would be served individually to people who sat in their pews.

Or how about the credits at the end of the film Places in the Heart, where in a small rural church every actor, even those who had died earlier in the film, receive communion?

Are you puzzled by this confusing variety of beliefs and practices?

What do you feel, not just think, when you take communion?  When I sit in a pew next to my wife in her parish where I began my journey to the diaconate 30 years ago, I watch people I have known for years walking down the aisle towards the communion rail: I see teenagers I have known since before they were born; I was on vestry with that one; does that one still drink heavily; is that couple’s marriage still troubled? I feel a closeness with all these people as we share in a communion and a meal with each other.  Sometimes when as a deacon I give someone bread or wine, our eyes will catch each other’s and there seems to be something like an electric spark, a special feeling, that jumps between us. I’m not sure what it is,  I’m not sure that both of us feel it, but it is there.  It is something I cannot turn on or off, it just happens. Happens here at All Saints’.

And what do you think?

What do you feel?

Thomas Hooker, a 17th Anglican theologian, said:

Let it therefore be sufficient for me, when presenting myself at the Lord’s table, to know what I receive from him there, without searching or inquiring of the manner how Christ does this; let disputes and questions take their rest; let curious and sharp-witted men beat their heads about these questions. What these elements are in themselves it [matters] not, it is enough that to me which take them they are the body and blood of Christ, his promise in witness hereof is sufficient, he knows which way to accomplish it, why should any thought possess the mind of a faithful communicant but this, “O my God thou art true, O my soul thou art happy”? (V.67.12)

I want some Jesus!





Sermon–New Way of Being Human–August 5, 2018


11 Pentecost—Proper 13-B

August 5, 2018

William Bradbury

Exodus 16:2-4,9-15, Psalm 78:23-29, Ephesians 4:1-16, John 6:24-35

I imagine most parents would agree with me that we learn more about ourselves and life from raising our kids, than our kids learn from us! My daughter’s here today and that certainly applies to her, just as it applies to her brother, Andy: I remember when I took Andy out to the tennis club to hit a basket of balls, and at one point I thought his attitude could use some improvement, and pretty soon it was clear my attitude could use some improvement. Things started melting down from there and I finally said to him in exasperation, “You’re acting like a child!” and he looked up at me and calmly said, “I am a child.” Continue reading

Sermon–Feelings versus Action–July 29, 2018


10 Pentecost—Proper 12-B/ July 29, 2018

William Bradbury

2 Kings 4:42-44, Psalm 145:10-19, Ephesians 3:14-21, John 6:1-21

You’ve seen the old bumper sticker that reads, “When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will know peace.” (Google tells me that is attributed to Jimi Hendrix, of all people!) Of course, what we usually don’t say, but are thinking, is this quote should be changed slightly to read: “When the power of love overcomes the love of power in those horrible people over there, the world will know peace.” Continue reading

Sermon–July 22, 2018: Seeing God?


9 Pentecost—Proper 11-B, July 22, 2018

William Bradbury

Jeremiah 23:1-6, Psalm 23, Ephesians 2:11-22, Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

Is there a special church you’ve been in that seems to be filled with the presence of God? In this country I’ve always felt Presence in the National Cathedral in Washington, DC, but the place that I feel God the strongest is in the church at the Trappist Monastery of the Holy Spirit, in Conyers, GA, just east of Atlanta. Though very different in size, both churches offer a tourist a place filled with light, symbols of faith, and most of all, beautiful empty space. The quality of the space is not all cluttered with stuff and noise, so the soul can lift out of her inner clutter from memory and imagination, and soar into the empty space of peace and Presence. Continue reading