Words From Silence: Contemplation in a World of Action

A Meditation for Ash Wednesday The Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Priest-in-Charge One of the interesting things about the Ash Wednesday liturgy is that the ashes imposed on our heads with those unforgettable words—“remember you are dust and to dust you shall return”—are the burnt and ground up palms we waved on Palm Sunday. The implication is clear—something has to be broken down, surrendered, removed, burnt up and reduced to ash, that we might welcome Christ into the Jerusalem of the heart. That’s why we can say that Ash Wednesday has as its central purpose and thrust what it means to be truly happy, what it means to live a life of fullness, abundance, and joy. Yes, Ash Wednesday can feel a little like attending our own funeral, but in the economy of God’s grace the death we are invited to participate in is for the ultimate purpose of bringing us to new life—not at some later date, but right here and right now in the midst of our so-called ordinary life. It seems at first like ou...

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark Exodus 3:1-15; Psalm 63:1-8; 1 Corinthians 10:1-13; Luke 13:1-9 The Very Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Dean & Rector Midway-through Lent I thought we’d explore Holy Scripture through art and poetry this week and see how we might be buoyed up on our journey in, and with, and into Jesus. I spent some time this week praying with the story of Moses at the Burning Bush and looking at Rembrandt’s on-the-fly, pen-and-ink sketch of that moment when Moses’ and our life changed forever. In Rembrandt’s rendering, Moses seems distinctly taken aback—caught off guard, pulled up short. We can almost imagine him tooling along with his father-in-law’s flock, not paying much attention, perhaps even lost in a daydream, when all of a sudden he notices something out of the corner of his eye. Moses has wandered into the land beyond the wilderness. Normally we think in terms of pairs of opposites—good/bad, clean/unclean, city/country, domestic...

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark Lent 2C: Genesis 15:1-12,17-18; Psalm 27; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 13:31-35 The Very Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Dean and Rector One of the interesting things about human beings is that we are highly imitative creatures. I saw my father at Christmas and we were standing in from of a full length mirror together before dinner and I noticed that not only did we look quite alike, but we had many of the same habits and mannerism—the way we adjusted our glasses, the way we stood, the same furrow of the brow when our woebegone Toronto Maple Leafs came up as a topic of discussion. We even showed up to dinner wearing the same outfit a couple of times. Because human beings are inherently relational, it makes sense that we are also imitative. We become what see. We are what we worship. We will see that this has profound implications for how we reflect on the terrible tragedy in Christchurch, New Zealand where now 50 Muslim worshippe...

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark Exodus 34:29-35; Psalm 99; 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2; Luke 9:28-36-43a The Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Priest-in-Charge The last Sunday after the Epiphany marks a hinge point for us as we move from the celebration of Jesus’ loving presence in, among, and for us, to the season of Lent—when through prayer, reflection upon scripture, participation in the sacraments and sacrificial service to others we come face to face with all that is not the light, all that is not love in us. Indeed, the Christian life is perhaps most easily understood by holding these twin realities together—light and darkness, love and what gets in the way of love, clear sightedness and all the veils that obscure and occlude seeing our own belovedness that we might proclaim with boldness that belovedness to others. Our collect for today is a powerful reminder of what we are up to not just on Sunday mornings, but of the grand, sweeping telos, or goal, of the li...

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark Epiphany 7, Year C: Genesis 45:3-11, 15; Psalm 37:1-12, 41-42; 1 Corinthians 15:35-38,42-50; Luke 6:27-38 The Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Priest-in-Charge These past few weeks, we’ve been exploring the theme of Christian discipleship together—what it means to drop our nets and follow after the one who all beauty, truth, and goodness that we might become beautiful as He is beautiful. It is in setting out in the deep waters, allowing ourselves to be drawn into the depths of God’s love for us that we begin to experience a peace that passes understanding—a peace that is not contingent upon the outward circumstances of our daily life. Rooted and grounded in God’s love for us in Christ through the Holy Spirit, our lives bear the fruit of love and our leaves remain green, even in the times of inevitable dryness and drought. Blessedness comes, not from a grinding program of self-improvement, but in the degree to which we surrender ...

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark Epiphany 6C: Jeremiah 17:5-10; Psalm 1; 1 Corinthians 15:12-20; Luke 6:17-26 The Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Priest-in-Charge Last week, in our reading from Luke, we heard Jesus’ call to the disciples—Simon, John, and James—to leave everything and follow him. We talked about what it might mean to drop our nets—all the ways we trap God in preconceived ideas—in order to make a little room for God to be God to us. Setting out in the deep waters means leaving behind all the ways we’ve constructed our lives, our perceptions of others, and God on our own terms and letting God live God’s life in and through us. The calling of the disciples is a sign for us of the radical re-orientation that is at the core of the life of Christian discipleship—the turn from relying on ourselves to placing our trust in the one who is all beauty, truth, and goodness: the one who makes a way out of no way; the one who when the waters of daily life ris...

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark Epiphany 5C: Isaiah 6:1-8, [9-13]; Psalm 138; 1 Corinthians 15:1-11; Luke 5:1-11 The Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Priest-in-Charge Perhaps the most common refrain I hear in my meetings for pastoral counseling with people over the course of the week when they pop in for a visit is a persistent, gnawing sense of skating across the surface of their life. They hunger for a life of depth, authenticity, and meaning and want to know how the life of faith can help them. In our gospel for today, we encounter Jesus’ calling of the disciples. The crowds are “pressing in on him to hear the word of God”—a powerful detail that speaks to our own present situation. Like us, the crowds, are hungry, yearning, for something more. Like us, they want to live lives of depth, dignity, and significance. Notice, too, that the people Jesus is about to call to be his disciples have given up their work. They’ve stepped out of their boats and are mend...