Do we have any Barbara Brown Taylor fans here this morning? Barbara Brown Taylor, for those of you who don’t know, is an Episcopal priest, a professor of religion, the author of at least twelve books on faith, and one of the finest preachers walking on God’s green earth at the present moment.

She is such a wonderful writer in part because she is such an avid reader, and in my favorite chapter from her book: “Holy Envy: Finding God in the Faith of Others,”  Taylor recalls a story from the book, “Out of Africa” by Isak Dinesen whose real name was Karen Blixen. In it, writes Taylor, Blixen tells the story...

I’m tired, which is a little worrisome because I have to tell you that I take very good care of myself. I make it a point to keep sabbath every Friday. I exercise everyday. I eat well. And I’m good at being in bed for at least 8 hours every night. (Not asleep, mind you, because I am a woman of a certain age, but at least in bed with the lights out trying to sleep.) And yet I’m still tired. Like, really tired.

How about all of you? I’m just curious, anybody else feeling exhausted lately?

Yeah. I’m not surprised, in part because...

Last week, after our Good Friday service, a woman who had been in attendance said to me: “God, how awful it must have been for the disciples of Jesus to not know what comes next. I can’t imagine how that would feel.”

In today’s story, we encounter our merry band locked away in fear for their lives. Well, all locked away except for Thomas, but we’ll get to that. Their fear is justified; they have just seen their friend and teacher killed in an act of state violence for his beliefs, beliefs they have professed to share. They know that if they leave the safety of their hiding place, they might meet the same fate. All they can do is sit in the grief of their loss, and the guilt that, on his darkest day, they left Jesus behind. Of course, they have heard news of the empty tomb, and even of Jesus’ appearance to Mary Magdalene. Yet, they remain despondent and out of sight.

And so, when I picture these disciples locked away, I see grieving, fearful people, deeply uncertain of where to turn in the wake of tragedy and oppression. They do not know the ending of their own story.

“I can’t imagine how that would feel,” said the woman on Good Friday 

But, can’t we? 

I’m not gonna lie  - which is a great way to begin an Easter sermon - it feels good to get our triumph on this morning. I’m loving the brass and the bright colors and this sanctuary full of people. It is so good to hear the bells ringing and the choir singing “Alleluia!”  And I can’t wait to feel - feel it in my bones! - when Sarah Kraaz pulls out every last stop on that organ for our postlude.



Friends, the truth is, I could stand here all day and say “Christ is risen!”  for the pure joy of hearing you say back (go ahead and hit me)  “Christ is Risen indeed!”....

I know yesterday was a big day here in America, and I was proud to take to the streets with over 8 million people around our country for the “No Kings” rally. Here in Northampton we prayed and sang in our sanctuary with other people of faith and then went outside to join in a line with our neighbors that stretched from the corner of King and Main streets in all 4 directions. It was pretty awesome.


But have you heard about the procession in China that has also gone viral? There were only seven of them out there and it took them two whole days to cover 10 miles. Anyone know what I’m talking about?

Apparently....

I subscribed to another substack this week, because if there is one thing I need in my life it’s more email. I know. It’s bonkers. And honestly, if I was going to subscribe to one more substack, it would make sense to go with something light hearted and fun given all the doom and gloom that currently fills my inbox.

But no, I doubled down and chose straight up horror. We’re talking death with a capital D! I subscribed to - wait for it - “Graphs on Religion,” by statistician Ryan P. Burge. He studies the decline of religion in America, and folks, it’s as horrifyingly grim as it sounds.

I clicked subscribe so I could read...

Do we have any romantics here this morning? Any lovers of love, poetry, romantic comedies, tragedies, maybe even a little romantasy? Ah, wonderful! Me too. So just for fun - or maybe because Bridgerton Season 4 went down as fast and easy as one of Queen Charlotte’s Belgian bonbons and I want more! - let’s play a little game.

I’ll read out a quote and you call out the title, ok? And I’ve got hints to help, so don’t stress. I really want this to be fun. We’ll start off with some classics and then move farther afield:

“Parting is such sweet sorrow...."

I’ve been struggling to love people lately. Not all people, mind you, just, you know, like, most people.

Alright, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration. Maybe I shouldn’t say most people. Actually, I think what I’m finding is that it’s becoming easier and easier to love the people who are easy for me to love and harder and harder to love the people who are hard for me to love.

Does that make sense? Any one else experiencing this lately? And there’s not a whole lot of middle ground anymore, is there? No.

And when I say “hard,” I mean...

Somewhere along the way I picked up a piece of wisdom that has served me well. I can’t remember who said this or where I read it, but someone once taught me that when you are juggling too many balls in the air the trick is to know which are rubber and which are glass.


I’ll let that sink in a moment.


When you are juggling too many balls in the air the trick is to know which are rubber and which are glass.


Having the wisdom to know what balls you can drop without causing irreparable damage is important.


Keeping your eye on the ball you can’t afford to let slip, is key....

(We had some technical difficulties this morning, but sound comes on at the 24 minute mark, and the sermon begins 36 minutes in.)


Viola White. Mary Wingfield. Mary Louise-Smith. Claudette Colvin.

Do any of these names ring a bell?

Each of these black women refused to give up her seat to white passengers on the Montgomery Bus line in Alabama, before Rosa Parks.

I don’t share this in any way as a slight...

I should really be a vegetarian. And let me tell you: if I had to kill my own food, I probably would be. Anyone else feel that way? I don’t know about you, but if I needed to slaughter my own meat, I have no doubt that I’d find a way to live on dairy, eggs, vegetables, and grains…. maybe the occasional fish. Maybe.
But there is no way I’m offing a chicken or a pig or a cow with my own two hands, and certainly not a lamb. Have you ever held a lamb? Spent time with a lamb? Seen one at the farm or the petting zoo or at a Christmas pageant with a little diaper on so it doesn’t ruin the carpet?
I don’t think I could kill a lamb if my life depended on it.
Now again, I’m not saying ....

We were blessed with the preaching of the Rev. Dr. Diane Johnson today. Enjoy.