So, several years ago I read Alan Weisman's book, The World Without Us. The book’s title is fairly explanatory – it is a book about the world after humankind – how long it would take for the asphalt and concrete to crack; how well all those animals we’ve bred to live with us would fare after we are gone.  It was fascinating to hear Weisman describe the changes that would come to a place like Manhattan–how the weeds, and trees, and cats would take over (dogs it turns out have tied their fate too closely to ours).

So, one night, in 2012 Brooks and I had walked Cotton the puppy, from the Woodlands, where we lived, back to the seminary, where we were in charge of locking up. Believe it or not, folks there actually trusted us with all the keys to the building, and our job every night was to check all the office doors to see if they were locked and if not, to lock them.

So, the other day, Fr. Brooks and I were sitting around, relaxing with the dogs, and somehow or another, the conversation turned to winning the lottery. Not just the little scratch off, where you sometimes win enough to buy another ticket or two. No, we were planning on winning the big Powerball, when it was close to a billion dollars.

What would we do with it if one of us won? Well, of course we would take care of our family. I'd get a 4-wheel drive SUV. Brooks would get a good truck to haul rocks for a wall he plans on building. We'd tithe because we're priests. But then we began to diverge.

Father Steve’s sermon for the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost (Year C), July 28, 2019.

            So, there are times when a preacher picks up the lectionary to look at the readings and thinks, “Wow!  This will fit in perfectly with what's going on at church today!”  After picking up the lectionary last week, I realized that this was definitely NOT one of those times.  And it's certainly not every day that someone in church utters the word “whoredom,” not once but three times.