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Showing posts from December, 2017

Christmas Day: Coffee beans, Cornfields, Czechoslovakia--Seeing Christ in All Things

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark. Christmas Day Isaiah 52:7-10; Psalm 98; Hebrews 1:1-4; John 1:1-14 The Reverend Tyler Doherty, Priest-in-Charge This Christmas morning, we don’t hear about the Shepherds, or the Magi, or the “No Vacancy” sign, or the visitation, or the Magnificat, or any of the things we’ve come to associate with Christmas. Instead, we are taken back, way back—before there even was a Bethlehem, and before there was even time itself. These opening lines of John’s Gospel are really a kind of recapitulation of the creation story; Genesis redux with the Christ as the logos, the Word, the ordering principle, providing the shape, the pattern, and the arc of how things hang together—“All things came into being through him.” Coffee beans, cornfields, Czechoslovakia—all things, John reminds us, mediate God’s presence to us. That we see Jesus in the manger—swaddled in cloth, packed in mud and straw, the tiny infant’s cry piercing the dumbstruck silence of that …

Christmassing--The Pilgrimage to the Manger of the Heart

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark Christmas Eve—in Isaiah 9:2-7; Psalm 96; Titus 2:11-14; Luke 2:1-20 The Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Priest-in-Charge
Christmassing—The Pilgrimage to the Manger of the Heart
When we come to ponder in our hearts like Mary the Mystery of the Incarnation, we often get tricked into thinking that Christmas was something that happened a couple of thousand years ago. Of course, the human person of Jesus was born in a dusty little corner of Palestine to a marginalized and voiceless teenage girl whose pregnancy brought with it all the scorn and derision that unwed mothers still face today. But, if we think of the Incarnation as merely an historical event, something that happened long ago in a distant land, we miss the full import of its meaning. Christmas becomes the marking of an anniversary, or a celebration of “Jesus’ Birthday” that rolls around each year. We get lulled into thinking that all this—the hymns, the liturgy, the flowers, the candl…

Advent 3, Year B--John, Mary, and Pointing to the Light

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11; Canticle 15; 1 Thessalonians 5:16-24; John 1:6-8,19-28 The Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Priest-in One of my favorite professors in seminary was the Episcopal priest Katherine Sonderegger. A former English professor, bespectacled, with salt and pepper hair and with a knack for making even John Calvin seem like a good idea, she’s both a brilliant systematic theologian and the most gifted, and challenging preacher I’ve ever heard. Blessed with a photographic memory, she delivers extemporaneous sermons without a single hitch in perfectly ordered, almost Elizabethan, prose. Try complimenting Dr. Sonderegger on the best sermon you’ve ever heard in your life and all you’ll get is—“They are beautiful texts. What a privilege to preach them.” That’s why I told her in jest one day that she should change her name to John the Baptist. “Perhaps we all should,” she replied. I got out while I was ahead, or at least before I got lap…

Advent 1 Year B: Bilbo Baggins, Bird-watching, and the Gift of Just Being

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark Isaiah 64:1-9; Psalm 80:1-7, 16-18; 1 Corinthians 1:3-9; Mark 13:24-37 The Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Priest-in-Charge
Back in my hometown of Toronto, there’s a place that has become a noted wildlife refuge right in the heart of city. Each year, the migrating Monarch butterflies bivouac there for a day or two before continuing their journey southward all the way to Mexico. There are some 316 species of birds. Coyotes, skunks, foxes, porcupines, Mississauga Rattlers… all in the shadow of that glorified antennae featuring terrible food at 1,150 ft.—the CN tower.             But the Leslie Street spit didn’t start out as a nature refuge. It began as a breakwater—more of an excuse to dump tons of unwanted concrete and steel into the lake. In the 50s, Toronto, like lots of other big cities was growing fast, and the problem of what to do with all the old building materials torn down to make room for the new loomed large. The breakwater seeme…