Words From Silence: Contemplation in a World of Action

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark Christ the King Sunday, Year C The Very Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Dean & Rector It seems a curious way to celebrate Christ the King Sunday, to focus our attention on the crucifixion, doesn’t it? We can all think of a whole host of other passages that might do better in its stead—Peter’s Confession, a healing or feeding miracle, Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem, or the calming of the storm. So why focus on the crucifixion? Why focus on Jesus at his most vulnerable, despised, and outcast? What curious kind of king is this who is mocked and scourged, offered sour wine to drink and hung under a hastily scribbled sign—“This is the King of the Jews?” There are really two things going here. The first is that the crucifixion shows us how our ideas of what it means to be a King don’t match up with God’s ideas of Kingship. The second is that Jesus on the cross is actually embodying what James Allison calls, “a strange act

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark Year C, Proper 28 The Very Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Dean & Rector I remember when I was in high-school we had a career counseling day. I must have been in tenth or eleventh grade and had taken an aptitude test that had definitively determined that the best career path for me, by far, was to be a tank driver in the Canadian military. Somewhat perplexed (I had after all just been protesting the first Gulf War) I did a little digging and found out that of all the positions in the military, tank drivers had the shortest life-expectancy. The bubble test had determined that the best course for my life was to be blown up as quickly as possible on the battlefield. But there was one redeeming thing from that career counseling day. Someone asked the CEO speaker for the best advice they had for people entering the workforce. He didn’t hesitate and replied, “You job is going away.” He went on to explain that on average people

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark All Saints, Year C The Very Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Dean & Rector Sometimes, I think that when we hear the word “saint” our first impulse is to think of the spiritual superstars of our tradition—the Mother Teresa, Francis, Benedict, John of the Cross, and most recently John Henry Newman. Saints seem to present a rather extraordinary example of holiness that none of us regular folks can live up to. Saints can seem otherworldly to the extreme as they glide a few inches above the earth existing solely on manna from heaven and tiny sips of holy water. When we’re stuck with that kind of picture of saintliness, when that picture “holds us captive” as St. Ludwig Wittgenstein would say, we miss, I think, an important aspect of what it means to be a saint, and that is their very ordinary humanness. This time of year, if you come into the Church early in the morning you’ll see the sun’s early rays lighting up the Resurrection

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark All Saints, Year C The Very Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Dean & Rector Sometimes, I think that when we hear the word “saint” our first impulse is to think of the spiritual superstars of our tradition—the Mother Teresa, Francis, Benedict, John of the Cross, and most recently John Henry Newman. Saints seem to present a rather extraordinary example of holiness that none of us regular folks can live up to. Saints can seem otherworldly to the extreme as they glide a few inches above the earth existing solely on manna from heaven and tiny sips of holy water. When we’re stuck with that kind of picture of saintliness, when that picture “holds us captive” as St. Ludwig Wittgenstein would say, we miss, I think, an important aspect of what it means to be a saint, and that is their very ordinary humanness. This time of year, if you come into the Church early in the morning you’ll see the sun’s early rays lighting up the Resurrecti

A Sermon Preached at the Cathedral Church of St. Mark Year C, Proper 25 The Very Reverend Tyler B. Doherty, Dean & Rector In our reading from Joel, we have this astounding, poetic, evocation of the abundance and inexhaustibility of the generosity of God towards the people of Israel and by extension the entire created order. Yes, you’ve known the swarming locusts of illness. Yes, you’ve known the hopper of loss. Yes, you’ve known the cutter of a broken relationships and the army of loneliness. But, God says (and it’s a big but) but I’m not done with you! My abundance, my ability to bring new life out of apparent dead ends, my power to draw fruitfulness from barrenness, my power to make for you a home when all you’ve known is exile and wilderness wanderings, is inexhaustible. Be alert! Be watchful! Utter your “Yes!” to the invitation that’s been on offer from the foundation of the world, and you’ll see that I’m doing a new thing! And then Joel begins to sketch out what he’s