River - The Rev. James H. Littrell Sermons from St. Martin-in-the-Fields

Listen in to the sermon from the Rev. James H. Littrell for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 22, 2022.

Support the worship and ministry of St. Martin's by giving online: stmartinec.org/give

Today's readings are:

Acts 16:9-15

Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5

John 5:1-9

Psalm 67

Readings may be found on LectionaryPage.net: https://lectionarypage.net/

River

Fr. Jim Littrell

May 22, 2022

Listen again and pray with me God's Word to and for us this morning:

On the sabbath day, we went outside the gate by the river, where we supposed there a was a place of prayer. And women were there, talking and praying....And Lydia said, Come home and stay with us. And they said, No.no. We would not trouble you. But Lydia insisted, and so they went with her, to her home.

Then the angel of God showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city...where there will be no more night; no need for light of lamp or sun, where God will be their light forever and ever.

Now in Jerusalem by the Gate of the Sheep, there is a pool, called Bethesda, which means place of healing, which has five porticoes or entrances. In these lay many invalids: blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man, we are told, had been there for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he went over to him and said, "Do you want to be made well?" The sick man answered him, "Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am crawling to the water, someone else gets ahead of me, and I just never get to the pool." Jesus said, "Come. Stand up. Take up your mat and walk." At once, we are told, the man was made well, took up his mat, and, haltingly we must imagine, began to walk. Now that day was the sabbath.

I come to you this morning in the name of almighty God, whose insistent love wills us into being in every moment of our lives and in our deaths: in our endings, in our heartbreak and mourning, in our grief and sorrow, and, when the morning comes again for us, in our joy and in our gladness. May it be so. Amen.

Good morning, friends.

I am, as most of you know by now, Jim Littrell. I am a priest in the Episcopal church and I am really glad to be with St. Martin's this morning, to have been with you this last week, and, God and my new friend and boss and your Rector's Warden, Barbara Thomson willing, glad to be with you for the next few weeks, eight, to be exact. We're not quite sure what title I might have. "Supply priest" always sounds to me like something you order from Amazon to replenish the broom closet or restock the plates and cups in the kitchen.

So I thought, no, that's not it. I thought I might call myself a bridge priest, albeit the very first bridge after a bridge goes out, a one-way, very temporary bridge where the light takes forever to change. And then after a while they lay down a second sturdier two-way temporary bridge and that bridge suffices for the time it takes for the parish to build a lasting bridge, and that bridge is built and it's a good solid bridge and it lasts for a long time. That doesn't quite do the naming job, but what I am titled is not very important, to me or to you. What's important is what I will try to be and do while I am with you in this limited time that really matters. And I think a large part of my job is to spend time with you as we are nurtured in the river of Light, as we gather and pray by the river of Life, and when either necessary or just desirable, to take a dip in the healing waters of the Bethesda pool.

I love a good clean country river. I do. My partner, Louis and I seek them out. We have hiked for miles to get to a great swimming hole.

And when I get to those swimming pools, I just plunge in and feel every single time like I've been washed in the blood of the everlasting Lamb that John