Sermons from St. John’s Episcopal Church

From the propers this week, Father Harris acknowledges the discomfort and confusion that often surround Trinity Sunday and its seemingly abstract, "out-there" doctrine. Rather than attempting a complex philosophical defense, he reframes church doctrine not as cold, rigid laws meant to dominate us or be weaponized against others, but as living wisdom meant to be inwardly digested, wrestled with, and infused into our hearts. Ultimately, the Trinity serves as a beautiful, dynamic image of the entire cosmos: a movement of love flowing out from the Father and returning through the Son. We are invited to step into the middle of this cosmic journey, moving past blind conformity so that we might be truly formed by this mystery and actively participate in God's love.

Acts 2:1-21. Pentecost is God’s plan coming together, which means people coming together.

From the propers this week, Father Harris unpacks John 17 where Jesus, facing the looming, ugly inevitability of the cross, turns his eyes to heaven and prays for his disciples. Father Harris explores the cosmic principle of "glory," illustrating how we are created not to glorify ourselves, but to reflect God's goodness, truth, and beauty in our everyday lives. Rather than giving in to the modern anxieties of scarcity and isolation, we are challenged to move past fear and embrace our highest calling: finishing the work God has given us by building a society of friendship, self-offering, and true Christian unity.

John 14:15-21. The Holy Spirit is not a mystery to be understood but a gift to be received.

From the propers this week, Father Harris discusses the reality of living in a world that gives us every reason to be troubled. He reminds us that when Jesus commanded his disciples to "let not your hearts be troubled," he wasn't speaking from a place of naivety, but from the shadow of the Cross, offering a way through the darkness rather than an escape from it. By examining our tendencies to avert our gaze from the suffering of our neighbors or the critiques of our loved ones, we are invited to trade the paralysis of anxiety for a deep, intuitive trust in the trustworthiness of God.

John 10:1-10. Jesus offers life abundantly but we need to be willing to change our mindset of scarcity.

At our annual Youth Sunday service, two teenagers reflect on Acts 2:14a,36-41 and Luke 24:13-35.

John 20:1-18. John's Gospel frames the event of Jesus’s resurrection as the beginning of a new world. Can we see and believe?

Matthew 26:14- 27:66. The tearing of the temple curtain means that God is no longer a fearful mystery, that there is no separation to be breached, and that the love of God is for everybody.

From the propers this week, Father Harris addresses the exhaustion we often feel by the fifth week of Lent. As the "path of least resistance" beckons us to give up or skip the demanding rituals of Holy Week, this sermon reminds us why our presence matters: we are in church to remember the vision of a Kingdom of love in a world that feels increasingly hopeless. Drawing on Ezekiel’s vision of the Valley of Dry Bones and the resurrection of Lazarus, Father Harris explores the agonizing moments when God seems silent or delayed. He reminds us that even when our hope feels "dried up" and our prayers go unanswered, God is often preparing something far more magnificent than we can imagine. If you are feeling discouraged by the weight of the world, take heart: the Spirit is at work in the "dry bones" of your life.

John 9:1-41. Jesus heals a man born blind and everybody misses the point. The only way to see what God is up to is to admit that you, too, are blind.

From the propers this week, Father Harris speaks to those of us stuck in the "uncomfortable middle"—whether of Lent, or of a life that feels unfinished and messy. Drawing on the story of the Samaritan woman at the well, he reminds us that Christ does not wait for us to be "good enough" or "cleaned up" to meet us. Just as Jesus saw the woman’s five failed marriages and her present lies, He sees our half-hearted disciplines and our deepest anxieties. Whether you are playing Lent on "Hard Mode" or have forgotten it’s Lent entirely, the message is the same: Take heart. The God of the universe meets us in our lowest conditions to offer living water that finally satisfies.

John 3:1-17. Jesus tells Nicodemus that he needs to be “born from above” to see the kingdom of God.

From the propers this week, Father Harris examines the jarring transition from Jesus’ baptism to his isolation in the desert. If the Son of God was led into the wilderness, we should expect no less: life after baptism does not get easier. Through the lens of the Desert Fathers and the season of Lent, Father Harris breaks down the three core temptations we all face: appetite, security, and power. He challenges us to stop trying to "muscle through" our anxieties or manufacture our own safety. Instead, we are invited to enter our interior wilderness, face our attachments, and practice the hardest spiritual discipline of all: waiting on God.

Matthew 17:1-9. In Lent we are invited up the mountain with Jesus for a 40 day season of focus.

From the propers this week, Fr Harris tackles a common saying: "I'm spiritual but not religious." He explains how this often points to a reaction against empty rituals, where people go to church but their hearts and minds are somewhere else. Meditating on the wisdom of the Prophet Isaiah and Jesus, the sermon challenges this divide. True faith is both spiritual and religious. It means connecting our inner life with God to outward actions of justice and kindness, like feeding the hungry and helping the oppressed. This is how we become the "light of the world" we are called to be.

Matthew 5:1-12. On the Sunday of St. John’s Annual Parish Meeting, Fr. Houk asks the qualitative question, “Are we a Beatitudes Church?”

Isaiah 9:1-4. Matthew 4:12-23. Jesus’s kingdom is for everyone, a matter of the heart. The Kingdom of God has nothing to do with "Christian Nationalism."

Matthew 3:13-17. Why is Jesus getting baptized? What does he have to repent of? Maybe he’s trying to reassure us that there is nothing we can do to keep him from loving us.

From the propers this week, Father Harris confronts our modern "crisis of meaning," diagnosing it instead as a crisis of forgetting. We chase illusions, survey the rubble of our choices, and wonder what it all means, all while neglecting the foundational, radical claim of our faith: "The Word became flesh." God’s mind and will are not hidden. They have been revealed in Jesus Christ. At Christmas, we are called to remember. Our purpose is not a philosophical puzzle but a transformative call: to have our own lives infused by that same Word. This means being remade by His light, life, and truth. The journey begins again; as infants, we behold the infant Christ.