Category: Sermons

“Believe me that I am in the Father, and the Father in me;
or else believe me for the very works’ sake.”

The centrality and the uniqueness of Christ is an essential doctrine of the Christian Faith. For Anglicans, this is captured in Article XVIII of the Thirty-nine Articles; the only anathema in all of the articles concerns the denial of the centrality and the uniqueness of Christ. It is only through the centrality and the uniqueness of Christ that Christians can and must engage the religions of the world as well as the forms of contemporary culture. And sometimes the pattern of the Sanctorale, especially of the Apostles of the Christian Church, coincide with the themes of the season and illustrate certain features of the Apostolic Faith and teaching.

The Feast of St. Philip and St. James is one of three apostolic pairings in the cycle of the Church Year and falls within Eastertide. The other pairing is found in the late Fall with the joint feast of St. Simon and St. Jude which completes the cycle of the twelve apostles and usher us into the omni gatherum feast and festival of All Saints. At the end of June there is another pairing though of a somewhat different provenance in The Feast of St. Peter and St. Paul. The readings for all these feasts in the Offices is instructive about the Scriptural witness to their lives, sometimes simply through the mention of their names.  The readings for Philip and James canvass a number of important texts about their witness, particularly the witness of Philip. But note that the Epistle and Gospel for their feast complement the Eastertide readings from the Gospel of John and on the next two Sundays, the Epistle of James. The Gospel reading is the beginning of Jesus’s farewell discourse that illustrates the radical meaning of Christ’s going from us in going to the Father and what that means for his abiding in us and us in him. The Epistle reading from James exhorts us to seek the wisdom of God and not to waver in our faith and understanding. James also will emphasize the importance of the works of faith.

(more…)

Print this entry

“Your sorrow shall be turned into joy … joy [that] no one taketh from you”

The Gospel readings for the next three Sundays encompass almost all of Chapter 16 of John’s Gospel. The central part of Jesus’s “farewell discourse” (Ch. 14-17) ends with his high priestly prayer in Chapter 17, which carried us into Good Friday and Easter. Look in your Prayer Books for a moment and note how Chapter 16 is read on these Sundays.

Today on The Third Sunday after Easter we read from verses 16 to 22 of that chapter. Next Sunday, The Fourth Sunday after Easter, we read from verses 5 to 15 and on The Fifth Sunday after Easter, Rogation Sunday, we read from verses 23 to 33, the very end of the Chapter. In brief, we go from the middle to the beginning and then to the end of the Chapter. The only verses not read on these Sundays are verses 1-4, though they will be read on The Sunday after Ascension Day. In a way, they signal the entire project of Eastertide and Ascensiontide. “These things have I told you,” Jesus says, “that, when the time shall come, ye may remember that I told you of them” (vs. 4).

We begin today in media res, in the midst of things, at least the midst of Chapter 16. Jesus is preparing the disciples and us for the meaning of his going from us in terms of Death, Resurrection, and Ascension which are, paradoxically, the very conditions of his being with us. His words preceding that movement now serve to teach us what it means in terms of our abiding in him and he in us. His going to the Father is ultimately the homecoming of the Son and the exultation of our humanity. Such is the Ascension and our joy.

(more…)

Print this entry

“I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known of mine”

Jesus says that he is “the good shepherd”, emphasis on the adjective “good” which, I will argue, is also substantive, meaning the Good that is God. He is “the good shepherd,” he says, not once, not twice, but three times. And he explains what it means.

It is one of the most concrete of the seven so-called “I am” sayings of Jesus. All the others are to some extent or other more abstract and general: the bread of life, the light of the world, the door of the sheep, the resurrection and the life, the way, the truth and the life, the true vine. They are notable metaphors for the nature of our incorporation in Christ. They speak to who he is essentially and absolutely in himself and what that means for us in our lives. They are, in this sense, analogies that point us to the mystery of God understood universally through the particularities of human experience that at the same time reveal who he is in himself. Like his saying “before Abraham was, I am”, they echo God’s Revelation of himself as “I am who I am” to Moses in the burning bush.

Good in Greek, (αγαθος) also means beautiful, (καλος). The terms are interchangeable. Three times Jesus says that he is the “good shepherd” (καλος). Beautiful. It is a strong statement. You know, of course, the Parable of the Good Samaritan, one of the essential stories for Christians about the ethical understanding, meaning what is it that is right to do because it is what is true and good to think and be. Nowhere in that parable is the Samaritan actually identified as the “good” Samaritan. That is, understandably, an interpretation that arises from our reflection on the power and truth of that story.

(more…)

Print this entry

“He showed unto them his hands and his side”

They were behind closed doors, huddled in fear and uncertainty. It is an apt metaphor for ourselves and our culture hiding behind the closed doors of our minds in the endless confusion of opinions and uncertainties about ourselves and our world, caught in a maelstrom of conflicting ideas, no longer “assured of certain certainties”, (or, for that matter, chained to our digital devices whose whole purpose is to make us think in a mechanical manner). The closed doors of our minds are like tombs where we are buried in ourselves. Yet in the wonder of the Resurrection the tomb becomes the womb of new life, the radical new and ever renewing life that is Resurrection. This story shows that transformation from death to life most compellingly.

The seventeenth-century preacher, Lancelot Andrewes, preaching on this Easter text in 1609, notes that there are five Resurrection appearances of Christ on Easter Day but suggests that this story is the chief or the most significant. Christ appears to Mary Magdalene, to the women coming from the sepulchre, to the two on the Road to Emmaus, to St. Peter, and now here to eleven of the disciples and those with them behind closed doors. As Andrewes suggests there is something comprehensive and universal in these stories. They transcend, I think, the conflict narratives of competing universalities and point to something greater, more complementary, and inclusive.

He observes that “the first two appearances of Christ are to women, the last three to men; so to both sexes. To Peter and to Mary Magdalene, so to sinners of both sexes. To the eleven as signifying the clergy, and to those with them signifying the laity; so to both those states of life as well … But of all the five, this is the chief for this here is when they were all together rather than scattered.” Gathered not scattered.

(more…)

Print this entry

“Behold my hands and my feet”

The Gospel for Easter Tuesday follows immediately upon the beautiful story of the Road to Emmaus, one of the most comprehensive accounts of how the Resurrection comes to birth in us. The crucial feature is that Jesus teaches us the Resurrection most clearly and most fully.

In Luke’s account in the Gospel read on Easter Monday, two things stand out: first, the opening of the Scriptures and the opening of our eyes in making himself known through the breaking of the bread. In the first, the opening of the Scriptures, Jesus gives us a way of understanding the events of the Passion by reference to Moses and the Prophets “the things concerning himself” but it is the second, his action in breaking the bread and giving thanks that crystallizes and confirms the teaching.

On Easter Tuesday, two things also stand out that are critical to the making known of the doctrine of the Resurrection: first, he shows them his hands and his feet and he opens our understanding again through the Scriptures. The first shows us one of the primary aspects of the Resurrection. It is made known through the signs of the Passion. This underscores the theological point that the Resurrection is known in the Passion and the Passion in the Resurrection as testament to God as life and love made manifest and alive in us. The point here is that Jesus shows them the marks of his Passion in his hands and his feet. He bids us look on him whom we have pierced but those marks of sin and human cruelty have become the signs of transforming love and life.

The second is the opening of the Scriptures which follows upon his showing us his hands and his feet. This is the reverse order from Easter Monday where the opening of the Scriptures precedes his making himself known in the breaking of the bread. All these ‘events’ go together and complement one another in the gathering of the understanding into the mystery of Christ now risen but showing us the marks of the Passion now transfigured, we might say, to become the means of our learning about the radical truth of God as love and life, that is to say, Resurrection.

The Easter Tuesday Gospel underscores the point that it is really the opening out of the whole of the Scriptures – meaning the Hebrew Scriptures – that provide the Christian understanding of the Resurrection but through Jesus as the exegete we might say. Luke here has Jesus makes reference to what is “written in the Law of Moses, and in the Prophets, and in the Psalms” concerning himself; in short, the TANAKH, the acronym for the Torah (the Law), the Nevi’im (the Prophets) and the Ketuvim (the Writings) as embodied in the Psalms. But Luke also shows us what this means for us: the preaching of repentance for the forgiveness of sins as belonging to our witness to the truth of the Passion and the Resurrection.

Just as our heart burned within us when he walked with us on the way and opened the Scriptures to us on Easter Monday, an image of being inwardly pierced or moved in our hearts and minds, so on Easter Tuesday, we are inwardly pierced by beholding Christ pierced but alive. The marks of the Passion are like words written in his body that open us out to the radical understanding of the Resurrection.

“Behold my hands and my feet”

Fr. David Curry
Easter Tuesday, 2026

Print this entry

“Did not our heart burn within us?”

This complements the text which has carried us through Holy Week and Easter: “a sword shall pierce through thy own soul also, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed”. Luke’s story of ‘The Road to Emmaus’ is the most comprehensive account of the coming to birth in us of the idea of the Resurrection. It shows us its most essential principle: It is the Risen Christ who teaches most clearly the doctrine of the Resurrection and its meaning for us and in us.

This Gospel story read on Easter Monday presents us with the logic of our learning about the Resurrection. Two disciples are fleeing from Jerusalem in fear and uncertainty following the events of the Passion and the first report of the Resurrection via the witness of the empty tomb and the vision of the Angels’ to the women. Jesus comes alongside Cleopas and the other disciple and enters into their conversation. He is not recognised by them because they think he is dead. But he effectively draws out of them exactly what they think has happened about which they are in perplexity.

It is a perfect scene of teaching in its Socratic sense. They are in fear and utter confusion about what has happened. Only then are we capable of learning because we can no longer be “assured of certain certainties” (T.S. Eliot, The Preludes). Jesus draws out of them an account of what has happened – the crucifixion, the finding of the empty tomb by the women, the angelic vision, all which is conveyed to the disciples but all as uncertain and confusing. Only then Jesus says, “Foolish ones and slow of heart to believe”. Only then does he explain the Scriptures from Moses and all the Prophets “the things concerning himself.” In short, he provides them with a way of understanding his Passion and the culmination of its meaning in his Resurrection. All through the opening of the Scriptures, meaning the Old Testament as Christians would later say.

But that isn’t the whole story. They don’t get it all just yet. Only in the last part of the story does the proverbial penny drop. They reach Emmaus and persuade Jesus to stay with them. “And it came to pass,” Luke tells us, that “he took bread, and blessed it, and brake, and gave to them.” This recalls the Last Supper. Luke simply tells us, “their eyes were opened, and they knew him.” The action crystallizes and confirms the teaching; a perfect witness to the complementarity of Word and Sacrament. And it changes them wonderfully, piercing them with a new understanding. “Did not our heart burn within us, while he talked with us by the way, and while he opened to us the Scriptures?” They return to Jerusalem no longer in fear and anxiety and tell the other disciples “how he was known of them in the breaking of the bread.”

The moving principle in the making known of the Resurrection is the Risen Christ by the Word audible and visible, his Word spoken in the witness of the Scriptures and his Word enacted in the Sacrament. Their hearts are moved and they are changed. And so may we.

“Did not our heart burn within us?”

Fr. David Curry
Easter Monday, 2026

Print this entry

Fr. David Curry has collected his Holy Week and Easter meditations and homilies, based on the scripture text, “A sword shall pierce through thy own soul also; that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed” into a single pdf document. Click here to download Holy Week and Easter at Christ Church 2026. These homilies were originally delivered and posted earlier this week on Palm Sunday through Easter Day.

Print this entry

Easter: “A sword shall pierce through thy own soul also; that the
thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.”

“Christ is risen, Alleluia! Alleluia! The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! Alleluia!” This is the great Easter proclamation. Easter resounds with the cries of Alleluias, which means “Praise the Lord” or “Praise Yahweh,” that is, God. It is a Hebrew word transliterated into Greek and subsequently into other languages such as English. What does it mean? Simply put, it is our acknowledgement of the radical truth of God as the source and end of all life, the life which is greater than sin and death, the good that is greater than evil and wickedness. Life is resurrection! The Resurrection of Christ witnesses to our resurrection, to our being alive to life itself, to our humanity alive in God. God is life!

Easter is not a happy-clappy add-on to an otherwise dismal and gruesome story. It is not a kind of feel-good illusion to hide from view what we would rather not see, a human construct of our own devising in the face of a sense of the fatal futility and meaninglessness of life. Quite the opposite. It makes visible what has been obscured and hidden yet present in all of the events of the Passion. The Crucified and Risen Christ reveals us to ourselves.

Simeon’s prophecy about Jesus and Mary has carried us through Holy Week to Easter in all our meditations on the Passion. The whole point is that the Passion is in the Resurrection and the Resurrection is in the Passion. The two are inseparably intertwined. “This child,” Simeon said to Mary, “is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel, and for a sign that shall be spoken against.” We have certainly seen and heard quite enough of the things spoken against Christ in mockery and insult, in false witness and lies, in animosity and cruel hatred by Jew and Gentile. Such is sin, the falling away from truth and goodness in all its forms. But we have also seen moments and hints of the rising again of those whose consciences have been convicted by what they have seen and heard, such as Peter’s tears of sorrow, the Penitent’s prayer on the Cross to Christ, the unnamed woman breaking open the alabaster jar of ointment of spikenard to anoint Jesus in anticipation of his death and burial, and so on. These moments have shown souls being pierced by sin and by love. We are in the story in the fullest sense.

(more…)

Print this entry

Easter Vigil: “A sword shall pierce through thy own soul also; that the
thoughts of many hearts may be revealed”

The quiet silence of Holy Saturday morning gives place to the Alleluias of great rejoicing on the Eve of Easter. “This is the night, wherein heaven and earth are joined, and mankind partaketh with the Godhead,” as the Paschal Praeconium sings. We rejoice in the making known of what is hidden in the Passion, simply the life and love of God who renews and restores our broken and sinful humanity. We rejoice in the felix culpa, the blessed fault of the original sin of Adam and Eve which belongs to all the sins of our humanity and yet a blessing because it does not cancel God’s deeper will and purpose for our humanity, namely, our being partakers of his divinity. It does not mean the loss of our humanity but rather its true being as found in the all-embracing love of God who alone makes something not just out of nothing but out of the nothing of our sin and evil.

The signal note is one of joy and praise at God’s restoring the dignity of our humanity to its purpose as found in his will. Redemption is just that, our being brought back to the truth of our being. That story of human redemption is recalled in the Easter Proclamation and in the Old Testament lessons, psalms and canticles that bring us to the renewal of our baptismal vows, to our identity in Christ through his Death and Resurrection, the very story which has been re-presented to us in the symphony of the Passion that culminates in the Resurrection of Christ.

Our little country vigil, as I like to style it, highlights some of the essential features of the ancient Easter Vigil: the blessing of the Paschal candle marking the transition from the darkness of sin and death to the light and life of Christ, the singing of the Paschal Praeconium, the prophecies or lessons from the Hebrew Scriptures that belong to the Easter Mystery, the renewal of our baptismal vows as the annual rebirth of our souls in the mystery of Christ’s Resurrection, and the lauds of Easter Morning. Tomorrow we will participate in the sacrament of the Altar which is always a recollection and re-presentation of Holy Week and Easter.

(more…)

Print this entry

Holy Saturday: “A sword shall pierce through thy own soul; that the
thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.”

The quiet and silence of Holy Saturday is in marked contrast to the noise and confusion of the Passion of Christ on the previous days of Holy Week, especially Good Friday. We have had our way in the folly of sin and evil, thinking that we could kill God. All the forces of sin and evil have spent their force. All is done.

Not just by us, but in Christ. What remains is what belongs to the special quality of Holy Saturday. That is the further and deeper contemplation of sin and love which has been our Holy Week theme. What belongs to this morning is a profound awakening to the credal doctrine of The Descent into Hell as the final chord in the Symphony of the Passion. We have done all that sin and evil can do but God is not done. Already we have seen that eternal life flows out of the side of Christ crucified and dead.

The fullest sense of that life is seen in the lessons for Holy Saturday morning that highlights the universality and completeness of Christ’s sacrifice. It is for all. His suffering gathers into itself all the forms of human suffering, past, present, and future. His death gathers all our deaths into himself. Holy Saturday recalls the peace of Paradise but in another register. It is the peace, not as the world gives, but only as God gives, a peace that comes out of all our discord and disarray, out of all our evil and what it means in terms of suffering and death. Death is our way yet God makes life out of death, out of our folly and pretense of thinking that we can control and remake the very world of which we are a part, the folly of presuming that we are God.

Holy Saturday bids us wait at the tomb of Christ and contemplate the fury and rage of ourselves and its consequences. All is done and we are left empty. All our rage and spite is past and gone but can’t simply be ignored or forgotten. But 1 Peter recalling Zechariah – yet again, for John ended his account of the Passion with Zechariah’s words about our looking upon him whom we pierced – indicates something more that belongs to the radical meaning of Christ’s crucifixion. It is universal so much so that Christ goes and preaches to the spirits in prison, in Sheol or Hades or Hell understood not as the image of punishment but as an image of the place of the dead. He preaches to them in order to bring them to himself.

(more…)

Print this entry