Category Archives: Sermons

Reflections given as sermons at a public service. The members of the community take it in turns to preach to the whole community.

“Buying the Needy for a Pair of Sandals” (Homily for September 18)

The prophet Amos writes: “We will sell our wheat charging higher prices than for smaller portions, thus tilting the scales in our favour. That way, we can buy the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals.” Amos 8:4-7. These lines struck me very powerfully and seems to be an almost modern indictment of our age—how to make money in a capitalist society, charging more for less, cheating people when you can get away with it, and being rewarded with increasing one’s personal wealth at the expense of the poor.
The line about “buying the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals” intrigued me, and I wanted to understand what was meant in the context of Amos’ time. As I discovered it was the practice of buying people as slaves who had fallen into debt, hence buying people who couldn’t even afford their sandals. Right away, the image that came to me is one where people who are homeless often have to sleep with their shoes or boots under their head so they won’t be stolen—this is true when sleeping on a park bench, in a ravine or even in our city funded shelters. And once you lose your shoes you are made even more vulnerable and helpless, having to beg a staff person, or a drop-in worker for a cast off pair. Almost becoming more “slave-like…”
In Jesus’ parable, the manager thought, ‘What will I do, now that my employer is dismissing me?” At this point the manager cut in half each person’s debt, in effect cheating his boss but ensuring he would be taken care of. His boss afterwards actually commended the manager for his shrewdness. Jesus then said to his disciples “For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with one another than are the people of the light.
The people of the light…

“No servant can serve two masters–but will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other.  You cannot serve both money and God.” So one definition of a person of light would be someone who doesn’t serve money; those not shrewd in the ways of the world. How can we be people of light? Luke 16:1-13

Many of you know that I work for a family health team that provides primary health care for residents of the largest homeless shelter in Toronto—Seaton House for men. The guys on the street refer to Seaton House as Satan House. If you have never seen it before, it is a giant poorhouse really, housing as many as 600 homeless men at a time. Walking inside you are struck by its cross between a jail and a scene from a Dickens novel of a giant slum. Open wounds, body lice, people smoking crack just across the street, people hustling drugs right on the Hostel floor, deaths from overdose in the rooms, and some of the shelter staff acting more like prison guards than social workers. Last Sunday night a man was stabbed in his bed on the Hostel floor, and just two weeks before a man was not only hit by a car in front of Seaton House, he was repeatedly run over by the driver—a horrific scene played out in front of 10 Seaton House residents. It was in this setting the other day that I spoke with a man I’ll call Tom. Tom is an aboriginal man, Ojibway, with long black hair and dark brown eyes and a tall skinny frame. He was sitting hunched over in a wheelchair—his leg displaying a large open wound. He had no shirt on, and several large bruises were prominent. He said he didn’t remember how he had gotten those bruises. He is all of 32, but he could pass for 62. Life on the street is a hard one. He looked up at me and smiled from his wheelchair. “How are you?” he asked with a big grin, missing a few teeth. He then told me “I’m going pretty good, well, actually I’m a bit messed up right now, but I’ll be okay.” We gave each other props and he smiled at me with an almost dazzling smile. His words spoken so sincerely by someone who has been knocked so low really hit me with their beauty and kindness. When I think of a person of light, I think of Tom, and his buds on the street and Seaton House who help watch his back, and the support people in his life too.

Shifting gears, I want to tell you about a book I’ve been reading:

The Inconvenient Indian: A Curious Account of Native People in North America: by Thomas King
Thomas King asks the question “What do Indians Want?” And then changes the question to “What Do Whites Want?” The Lakota didn’t want Europeans in the Black Hills, but Whites wanted the gold that was there. The Cherokee didn’t want to move from Georgia to Indian Territory (Oklahoma), but Whites wanted the land. The Cree of Quebec weren’t at all keen on vacating their homes to make way for the Great Whale project, but there’s excellent money in hydroelectric power. … What do Whites want? The answer is quite simple, and it’s been in plain sight all along. Land. Whites want land.” p. 216.

Two accounts help illustrate this:
Ipperwash: In 1942 during WWII, Government of Canada went looking for a place to set up a military training base, and Stoney Point Ojibway reserve in Ontario was chosen. Canada offered the band fifteen dollars an acre for the land, the band refused, and then Canada confiscated the land anyway, promising to return it after the war. The land was not given back, and after countless protests over the years, 24 years later, in 1996 a protest began to escalate and Dudley George was shot and killed by the OPP. In 2007 plans began to give the land back; trying to clean up some of toxic mess left behind by the military. As of May 2012 the land has still not been returned.
Oka: In 1717 France gave a portion of land along the Ottawa River to the Sulpician Missionary Society. The land belonged to the Mohawk people and for the next 151 years they tried to get it back. In 1868, Joseph Onasakenrat, a chief of the Mohawks wrote a letter to the Sulpicians demanding the return of the land; nothing happened. In 1936 the Sulpician sold the property and left the area. The Mohawks protested the sale, and again, nothing happened. Twenty-three years later, in 1959, a nine hole golf course was built on the land, right next to the band’s cemetery. The Mohawk launched a legal protest, but the developers went ahead with the construction of the course. In 1977, the Mohawks filed an official land claim with the Federal Office of Native Claims in an attempt to recapture the land. Nine years later the claim was rejected. In 1989, the mayor of Oka, announced the “exciting” news that the golf course was going to be expanded taking their land including levelling a forest known among the Mohawk people as “the Pines.” In 1990, Mohawks began occupying the Pines, protecting their trees and their graveyard. Their land. The Oka crisis had begun which ultimately cost two lives and over $200 million. Finally in 1997, the Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development purchased the disputed land for $5.2 million and quietly “gave” it to the Mohawk.
Now let’s bring this a bit closer to us in Toronto–the conflict between Canada and the Misssissaugas of the New Credit.

In 1787, Sir John Johnson, the Chief Superintendent of Indian Affairs met with the Mississaugas at the Bay of Quinte to discuss a number of potential land sales along the north shore of Lake Ontario, including the purchase of land at Toronto as well as land on either side of the Humber River and at Lake Simcoe.

Shortly after this transaction, there was some confusion over the extent of land surrendered. The deed to the land, which was found many years later, was blank and contained no description of the land that had been purchased by the Crown.

Later, Sir Johnson gave an account of the boundaries as roughly “ten miles square at Toronto, and two or four miles . . . on each side of the intended road or Carrying Place” (the Humber River). Six years later, in 1796 a 14×28 mile parcel was surveyed. This was quite a bit different than the 10 x10 parcel of 1787.
So 6 years later, and the Mississaugas were already getting swindled out of land.
The Crown decided to “resolve” the situation by entering into a second Toronto Purchase agreement with the Mississaugas to “confirm” the 1787 surrender. On August 3, 1805, the Mississaugas agreed to the surrender of 14 x 28 miles [392 square miles] of land. The “Toronto Purchase.”

So now the swindle of 1796 is being confirmed and solidified by the decision of 1805. Through the 1805 purchase, the Mississaugas surrendered much of what is now metropolitan Toronto.

Currently, negotiators for the parties are trying to reach an agreement on what constitutes fair cash compensation for the losses to the First Nation as a result of the 1805 Toronto Purchase.

So let’s go back to the shrewd merchant, and our entreaty to serve God and not money. The shrewd merchant would have been rewarded for taking the land at Ipperwash from the Ojibway in 1942, paying very little and promising to return it. Dudley George was killed, but the land is still in the hands of the government—a shrewd merchant indeed. Then in Oka, land that was stolen from the Mohawk and given away by the French in 1717, and then sold in 1936– has been fought over for 299 years. It has finally been returned. Shrewd merchants for almost 300 years. And the land we are standing on was “shrewdly” swindled out of the hands of the Mississauga people
So our history as colonizers has been one of “buying the poor for silver and buying the needy for a pair of sandals,” in effect enslaving our first peoples on this land through murder, lies, deceit, and swindling. Many of our forebears of all of us in this room were perpetrators or at least complicit in this.
So how can we be “people of light” instead? How can we serve God rather than money, and not live for greed and excess, trampling on the poor and becoming like the shrewd merchant?
I have had fantasies of creating a “sister community” with peoples on a reserve up north, sending sports equipment and books and school supplies—throwing money at a poor community. The thoughts of a guilty colonizer… I’m afraid, thinking that I “know” what these communities need. Just like colonizers before me thought that Residential Schools were the answer, converting, re-locating to reserves, scooping up children in the 60s scoop, …the list goes on and on.
As Melanie Kampen said in Unsettling Theology” quoted in Geez Fall 2015: “Decolonization is not a project, or a solution to a problem; it does not warrant a social engineering approach to righting wrongs and pursuing justice and healing—that is still a way of thinking with an imperial mind, one that seeks to control and bring about order out of difference and the conflict it believes differences produce. As Black Elk saw it the healing of the hoop, was a return to the form of a circle, and to walk its path, the good red road, in a sacred manner. What does that mean? To walk as relatives.”
I am intrigued by the invitation we received to meet with the Mississaugas of the New Credit and to get to know each other. What a gift—to be reached out to across the centuries –the people kicked off the land we are standing on right now reaching out to us who live on this land—their land. I am humbled and see glimpses of the people of the light, calling us to be people of the light as well.
As the Psalmist said today: God raises the poor and needy from dust and dung-hill. And aren’t we God’s hands and feet in this world? Psalm 113

When we live in the midst of so much injustice towards our indigenous brothers and sisters, epitomized even by the land we are standing on here, like Tolstoy, I ask us all “What then must we do?” Can we reach out and walk as relatives with our indigenous sisters and brothers? Can we wrestle with our tendency to be more like the shrewd merchant or the “we know best” colonizer?

I would like to leave you with a poem by Rosanna Deerchild, entitled “We Are Just: Indian Woman.”

faded black & white
whispers of a long gone past
like horses and fur trading

we are just: your Disney porn

girl who wears feathers
dances barefoot across
your screens before inviting
you into our tepees

we are just: a decoration

a symbol of his story
that rides into sunset
slips between sheets
of your status quo

we are just: land

conquered cut into
squares labelled and sold off
as economic development

we are just: the body

this country lies on
our bones line every
highway in every direction

oh way ya hey ya waaay

I know another story

is woman

she is sky

she is your water
your beginning

she is heart

A re-creation
of your declaration
that we are not here

A re-creation story
that begins

A whisper
calling all her names

A song
rising drum thrum

A rising
that begins



my voice

with my


with my

for my daughters


a rising/arising

my name is

my name is

my name is
my name

my name
is not missing
by Rosanna Deerchild from Geez: Contemplative Cultural Resistance; Fall 2015, No. 39, pg. 79.

Loss and Recovery (Homily for September 11th)

Exodus 32:7-14   Psalm 51:1-10     1 Timothy 1:12-17     Luke 15:1-10

Sherman Hesselgrave, Homilist

Nine. Eleven. 2001. Fifteen years ago today—another date that “lives in infamy.” The horrific losses on that day pale when compared to the exponential suffering that has resulted as a direct consequence of the subsequent score-settling. Like all of history, there is nothing we can do to change the past. We can hope that the kind of thinking or believing that led to creating hell on earth for countless people might change, but the lust for power in times of political instability make it a very steep climb, indeed.

Our scripture readings today also speak of losses. But they speak too of recovery after loss, and the lost being found. The Israelites have lost faith in Yahweh who led them out of slavery in Egypt. They have been seduced by the neighbouring Baal-worshipping tribes, and taken to worshipping a golden calf. Moses mediates on their behalf, and they are given the opportunity to make a new beginning.

The writer of the pastoral letter to Timothy speaks of the recovery that can come, even to one who had been an enthusiastic persecutor of Christians, through God’s abundant grace. “Grace,” Frederick Buechner writes, “is something you can never get but only be given. There is no way to earn it or deserve it or bring it about any more than you can deserve the taste of raspberries and cream or earn good looks or bring about your own birth…. There’s only one catch. Like any other gift, the gift of grace can be yours only if you’ll reach out and take it.” [Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC.  pp. 33-34]

In this third year of the lectionary cycle, the gospel we have been reading our way through in a semi-continuous fashion is the Gospel of Luke. About half way through we come to chapter 15, which begins (as we heard today):

One time the tax-collectors and other [notorious] sinners were all gathering around to listen to Jesus. The Pharisees and the teachers of the Law began grumbling, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

Jesus responds with the parables of the Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin, and a third parable, one we read on the Fourth Sunday in Lent earlier this year: the parable of the Prodigal (or Lost) Son. The Pharisees and the teachers of the Law live in a binary world where things, actions, and people are either clean or unclean. People who were ignorant of the purity code and didn’t live by it were regarded as unclean. But people like tax-collectors were in a special category as they were seen as collaborators with the oppressive Roman state. Collaborators have always been hated. Nazi collaborators in Vichy France were executed by the Resistance. In Apartheid South Africa, those who collaborated with the white regime were often “necklaced” with a tire splashed with gasoline and set afire.

The biblical scholar, Kenneth Bailey, in his book, Finding the Lost Cultural Keys to Luke 15, summarizes Jesus’ three-parable reply to his challengers in conceptual language:

Gentlemen, you accuse me of reclining to eat with the ‘am-ha-‘arets and with tax collectors! Your information is correct. This is exactly what I do. And not only do I let them in—I go out into the streets and shower them with affection, urging them to come in and eat with me!

The story of Zacchaeus, the sycamore tree-climbing tax collector whom Jesus invites to dinner a few chapters hence, is another example.

Let’s take a closer look at the two parables before us today: the Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin. Something else Kenneth Bailey points out with regard to this passage is that, while there are numerous references in the Hebrew Scriptures to God as Israel’s shepherd, by the time we get to the encounter between Jesus and his antagonists, the occupation of ‘herdsman’ is not kosher, so to speak. Shepherds were always grazing their sheep on other people’s land, which put them in the “unclean” column. So, when Jesus begins his reply to his challengers by saying: “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them does not leave the ninety-nine…and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?” Not only is Jesus asking them to imagine they are shepherds, but he’s telling them they are BAD shepherds—for LOSING the sheep they had been given. But because the language of parables is metaphoric, Jesus is not talking about shepherds of sheep, but shepherds of people, just as earlier in his ministry, he told his first disciples that they would become “fishers of people.”

The binary universe of the purity code—clean and unclean—was not the way forward if God’s reign on earth was to be realized, and Jesus was naming names as to who was getting in the way.

When you look around the world today, people are still waging war using the clean/unclean paradigm, only the categories have different labels: believers/infidels, right race/wrong race, powerful/powerless, rich/poor, etc. In the parable, recovery is the result of being found and being brought back into the community of the whole flock.

In the second parable, Jesus likens his tormentors to a careless woman who has lost a precious coin. (Bailey notes that in “Middle Eastern culture a speaker cannot compare a male audience to a woman without giving offence.”) By making a woman the hero of the story, both Jesus and Luke affirm the intrinsic value of both sexes in God’s sovereign realm. The missing drachma represents a day’s wage for a labourer, so it would have been of significant value to the household finances. The woman knows it is somewhere in the house—perhaps it has fallen in a crack between stones in the floor, or it has rolled into a dark corner. Whatever, she doesn’t quit until it has been found.

As in the first parable, it’s not really about a lost coin, but about a lost soul, and caring for everyone who has intrinsic value as a child of God. If the angels in heaven rejoice whenever a lost soul is found, why is it impossible for the Pharisees to join in? It seems to me that they are not able to see beyond the paradigm they have constructed. Clean or unclean—that is their question, and there they are trapped.

When you stop to reflect on these parables, the ones who are lost are the ones who continually take issue with Jesus’ modelling of God’s generous grace.

Calls for justice for all God’s children continues to generate conflict today. There are   people unwilling to accept the witness of Black Lives Matter. Others aren’t convinced there’s much that can be done about missing and murdered women. Others would rather argue about which bathroom a trans person should use.

Jesus asks his harassers to imagine themselves in another’s situation. It may be only a beginning, but it could be the first step leading to recovery and reconciliation after the deep losses so many have felt.

In the Toronto Star yesterday, Tony Burman published the five lessons he has learned from the ashes of September 11, 2001. Two of them could have come from the lips of Jesus:

• Revenge as policy never works

• Terrorism doesn’t come from nowhere

If we want the future to look different from the past, then we continually have to stomp down the barriers that people keep erecting or reinforcing that divide us from one another. It is God’s will that everyone has a place at the table; all are welcome under God’s roof. And we are either part of the solution or part of the problem. We each have a choice.

Pride Sunday with MPP Cheri DiNovo – June 26

rainbow-stripOur guest homilist on Pride Sunday at HT (June 26) will be MPP Cheri DiNovo, long-time activist for LGBTQ rights and an ordained United Church minister. Named by NOW readers in 2015 as Best MPP.

From her official bio:

Cheri has been a 40+ year activist for LGBTQ issues. She was the only woman in Canada to sign the ‘We Demand’ statement in 1971—the first demand for gay rights on Parliament Hill. In 2012, Cheri succeeded in getting Toby’s Act passed, an amendment to the Ontario Human Rights Code to include gender identity and gender expression–the first of its kind in North America.

Continue reading Pride Sunday with MPP Cheri DiNovo – June 26

Homily for June 12, 2016

Preached by Alison Kemper on June 12, 2016

The biggest concern for any organization should be when their most passionate people become quiet.

All three stories today look at the problem of who’s good enough to be in the circle of God’s love and approval. First, God gets Nathan to show David he’s being an outrageously arrogant, entitled jerk, a murderer and adulterer. Continue reading Homily for June 12, 2016

The Journey to God in Three Persons

Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31     Psalm 8      Romans 5:1-5     John 16:12-15

The Journey to God in Three Persons

Homily for Trinity Sunday, May 22, 2016 by Sherman Hesselgrave

Today is Trinity Sunday, our Feast of Title, and I am inviting you to join me for an abbreviated recap of the journey to God in Three Persons, with a couple excursions to hear how the Trinity has entered into the creative imaginations of a few literary and musical geniuses. Continue reading The Journey to God in Three Persons

Prisons we choose to live in – Homily May 8, 2016

To see music and readings that surrounded this homily:

HT bulletin Sun May 8, 2016 Easter 7 C

God knows – Canada has more than enough jails.
In 2013, the Correctional Commissioner for Canada reported to Parliament that the number of prisoners in federal and provincial jails was at an all-time high, even though crime rates have been steadily dropping for more than two decades.
He noted that indigenous people make up 25% of the prison population, even though they form only 4% of the overall population of Canada.

He noted that there had been a 75% increase in the number of visible minority prisoners in the past decade.
The International Centre for Prison Studies reported that, in 2015, Canada had 106 prisoners per 100,000 population.
That’s a big number, but pales in comparison with the United States – where they have an astonishing 698 inmates per 100,000 population.

Here in Toronto, the relatively new Toronto South Detention Centre is a huge facility – with a capacity of almost 2,000 inmates although it is still only partly filled. Some of the inmates are men serving sentences of less than two years, but many are in remand – that is, they in jail awaiting trial or some other proceeding. They have not been convicted, but they are in jail – sometimes for days, sometimes for weeks, sometimes longer. Continue reading Prisons we choose to live in – Homily May 8, 2016

The Gift of Progressive Revelation

Homily for the Sixth Sunday of Easter

Sherman Hesselgrave
Acts 16:9-15    Ps 67      Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5     John 14:23-29

The Sunday morning Bible study spent several weeks over the last two months looking at the Sermon on the Mount in the Gospel of Matthew. One of the features of those three chapters is a series of sayings of Jesus that follow the pattern: “You have heard that is was said to those of ancient times, ‘You shall not…’  But I say to you….” So, for example, “You have heard that it was said… ‘You shall not murder’;…. But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment;….” “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” Jesus is taking the familiar ten commandments and revealing a deeper spiritual understanding of them. And in so doing he is taking aim at the hypocrisy of those who prided themselves on their apparent religious virtue—they had never killed anybody or committed adultery—but in their hearts they had hated and lusted, and Jesus was not letting them off the hook.

Last Sunday, the story of Peter’s remarkable vision during his siesta at Joppa was one of the appointed readings: a vast canvas full of non-kosher animals appears to come down from heaven, accompanied by a voice instructing Peter to “kill and eat.” Peter’s response is to refuse this dietary violation. But the voice from heaven says, `What God has made clean, you must not call profane.’ This sequence happens three times before the canvas is taken back up to heaven, and when Peter awakes, he manages to connect the dots and concludes that God’s Spirit was telling him that henceforth, the message of Jesus was to be shared with both Jews and Gentiles alike, without distinction.

These are a couple examples of what can be called progressive or continuing revelation. Today’s reading from Jesus’ farewell discourse in the Gospel of John mentions the Holy Spirit, whom the [Creator] will send in Jesus’ name, and who will teach the disciples everything, and remind them of all that Jesus had said to them. A couple chapters later, Jesus will tell them, “‘I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, it will guide you into all the truth;….” It is almost as if Jesus was imagining a day when, after the biblical canon was closed, that is, once the early church finally decided which books and letters would be in and which would not, there would be some of his followers who would insist that God’s revelation was complete. For those folks,   continuing revelation is a threat, because it means that the process of God’s self-disclosure modelled in the Bible did not end with the book of Revelation.

The monotheistic community whose oral traditions became the Hebrew Scriptures recorded an evolving understanding of God and what God expected of them. The experience of God at the time of the Exodus is far different than the experience of God following the Babylonian Exile. And the God whom Jesus wants his followers to know is different than the God described by the Pharisees and other religious leaders of Jesus’ day.

In English, the word ‘revelation’ comes from the Latin verb that means ‘to unveil or uncover’. We also use the word ‘apocalypse,’ from the Greek word meaning ‘to cause something to be fully known, reveal, disclose,’ although often ‘apocalypse’ becomes associated with end-times and final judgment. Richard Niebuhr, in his book, The Meaning of Revelation, wrote:

Revelation means for us that part of our inner history which illuminates the rest of it and which itself is intelligible. Sometimes when we read a difficult book, seeking to follow a complicated argument, we come across a luminous sentence from which we can go forward and backward and so attain some understanding of the whole. Revelation is like that.

We all have had Aha! moments when the scales fall from our eyes and we see clearly for the first time. Perhaps we have had a life experience that made us aware what it is like to walk in someone else’s shoes. One of my former bishops recalibrated his theological position on gays and lesbians after his only child came out to him. Many generations of people who lived with dyslexia had to endure teachers who misjudged their intelligence because they did not understand the nature of the disability. Progressive revelation comes in many packages. In some ways it is like reading a detective novel. You collect clues as you work through the narrative, and eventually you reach a eureka moment.

As I mentioned earlier, not everyone is comfortable with the notion of continuing revelation when it comes to matters of faith. I have been drafting a letter to the Anglican Journal as an advocate for changing the Marriage Canon. I pose the question: “When does perpetuating a tradition or teaching of the church become a sin?” One historical example should suffice: In the Bible and for hundreds of years, slavery was accepted as part of the world’s economic reality. For about 40 years, William Wilberforce introduced private member’s bills in Parliament to abolish slavery. It wasn’t until he was on his deathbed that the British changed the law. What had once been both legal and acceptable in Christendom, was now illegal and immoral—a sin. Some day, the Anglican Church of Canada will reach the tipping point. Our sacred story tells us in the book of Genesis that, after God concluded that it was not good for Adam to be alone, God allowed Adam to decide who is a suitable companion for marriage. Wouldn’t it be something if the church did the same?

Progressive revelation also applies to our communal life. God calls to us from the future, not from our past, so discerning what we should be doing now to prepare for what is over the horizon will require us to look at the clues the Author of the universe has given us, and use the faith, intelligence and resources with which we have been blessed to create the future to which we are being called.

A long night of work…

Peter Haresnape’s Homily for Easter 3

After the torchlight red on sweaty faces
After the frosty silence in the gardens
After the agony in stony places
The shouting and the crying
Prison and palace and reverberation
Of thunder of spring over distant mountains
He who was now living is now dead
We who were living are now dying
With a little patience

[— T. S. Eliot, “The Wasteland“]

After the busyness and disruption of Easter, we get back to work, the children go back to school, and Simon Peter gets together with his friends and goes fishing.

A long night of work, and nothing to show for it, but then, through the sudden provision of great abundance, they recognise the Lord in the mysterious, almost unrecognizable form waiting by the shore. Continue reading A long night of work…

“Water is the blood that flows through this wounded body”

A reflection on Water For Ecumenical Good Friday,
Church of the Holy Trinity, March 25 2016

Who lives the pain of Good Friday in our time? Communities of Pimicikamak /Cross Lake, Syria, South Sudan, Kashechewan…

Where do we hear the cries? Taste the thirst for justice? Refugees fleeing, women sexually assaulted, black lives ignored, Indigenous girls missing…

Where do we see the wounds? Melting permafrost, fracked earth, tailings ponds, tanker spills… Continue reading “Water is the blood that flows through this wounded body”

Notes for a Sermon at Holy Trinity February 14, 2016  by Suzanne Rumsey


Suzanne Rumsey


Suzanne Rumsey’s sermon

First Sunday in Lent/Valentine’s Day


From “Lullaby,” by the Dixie Chicks

How long do you wanna be loved?

Is forever enough?  Is forever enough?

How long do you wanna be loved?

Is forever enough?

‘Cause I’m never ever giving you up.


When Alison asked me to preach on this first Sunday in Lent and this Valentine’s Day, I asked how she might like me to focus my reflections.  She wrote the following:

“My hope is that the preacher can talk about the temptations that we experience at HT. Stones into bread. Political power. And the one that I think we seldom identify: our temptation to suicidal behaviours. What are we doing to tempt our own fate? Do we think we have a lock on our survival? As humans, settler Canadians? Anglicans? HT? Do we need to consider our responsibility to use our lives? How does that sound?”


To which I replied:

“Wow, and I thought it was all about the love (kidding)!  Okay, I will give this some thought and do my best with the challenge you present.”

Continue reading Notes for a Sermon at Holy Trinity February 14, 2016  by Suzanne Rumsey