So, when I was in first grade, my teacher, Miss Sirus, began class by laying down the law. She had a list of rules that she taped up on one wall. These were the things you had to do in her class, those rules you must obey. She also taped, on the facing wall, a list of consequences. The bad, baaaad things that would happen when you inevitably broke the rules.

So, you'd better watch out...when God changes your name.

When I was working at St. Paul's Kingsport, before I came up here, that church had a thriving Godly Play curriculum designed for young children. I remember the kids' favorite thing was to play with the sandbox. The teachers tell them stories of Biblical characters in the desert as they tried to follow God. Heat, jagged rocks, wild animals, sunburn, hunger, thirst. And the teachers are supposed to say, “The wilderness is a dangerous place. You only go there if you have to.”

So here's something you may not know, but my close friends and family know. And it probably drives them crazy. When something happens that is out of my control, I want to do something. And usually, the thing I want to do has nothing to do with the thing that is out of my control. But sitting still is completely off the table.

So, the South is known for its awesome church signs. Once on a back road in Alabama I saw a church sign that said:

God's Will: Accept Jesus Today.

Satan's Will: Wait Till Tomorrow.

So, the other day I got a call from an unknown number in Knoxville. When I listened to the message it was from a social worker at Blount Memorial in Maryville. Blount is the main hospital in that area that serves severely mentally ill patients. Seems an former parishioner, Pat, had been committed there, and I was listed as one of the people who had her power of attorney. They were wanting me to make some decisions about further committal to a local assisted living facility.

So, in my continuing conversion in becoming a Yankee, I hit my first deer Wednesday. Now many of you probably know just how traumatic this was for me. First, killing the deer really bothered me. Now, don't get me wrong. If you give me venison, I'm going to eat it. I love venison stew. But killing the deer with my car? That just seems so useless.

So, this reading from Samuel, it's really not the beginning of the story. It's actually sort of the middle of a story. A story of the People of God trying to establish a new nation in the Promised Land. After centuries of slavery, the People of God have entered the land promised by God and have been there for quite a while. Things have been fair to middling, other nations rise up agains them now and then, but so far they've managed to throw their conquerers off mostly. But it seems to be getting harder and harder.

In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.

So, how many times have we heard the story of the Magi, the wise men, the THREE wise men?

So, for those of you that don’t know this already, I have a confession. I’m kind of a church nerd. I geek out over simple things like candles, crosses, and clergy fashion. There’s a certain, admittedly strange, joy I get from knowing weird things about the church and then using that trivia to impress people at cocktail parties. In seminary, Brooks, Quinn, and I even made a Book of Common Prayer themed version of Trivial Pursuit as a way of studying liturgics. We even got Dean Turrell to cancel some staff meetings so he could play with us!

So, let's face it...this, what we are doing right now, is weird. But then again, what isn't weird in 2020. The last time we were together in person when we felt safe was in Lent. We were beginning our journey with Jesus to the cross, and we were planning Wednesday soup suppers with communion, and working on all the different things we do at Holy Week. Looking forward to Easter and resurrection and ham and egg hunts and churches with lilies.

So, a few years ago, I was visiting Fr. Brooks when he and Becca were living in Little Rock. I traveled from Chattanooga to Little Rock by taking back roads. I just love to see how people really live rather than an endless string of McDonald's and Exxons on an endless string of exit ramps. But it does make the trip significantly longer. So about nine hours after leaving home, I found myself sitting in Brooks's office in Christ Church. He had on his collar because he was at work, and I had on my collar because I wear it when I drive through rural Alabama, Mississippi, and Arkansas speed traps as a sort of insurance policy!

So, true fact – I wish John the Baptist were either more fleshed out in the Gospels, or absent all together. I mean, here we have Gospels all about Jesus, and just when we settle in to read about him, John pops up, yelling, waving his arms around, eating locusts, and generally being a wild man out in the wilderness. But the crux of the matter is, I don't really know what motivates John. What caused him to take this turn in his life? Did he and Jesus hang out as cousins? What's the backstory?

So, we are at the end of our liturgical year, with the enticing name of Year A. Next week we begin Advent, a new church year, and we will call it an equally enticing name – Year B. Much about our church years are nice and regular: we begin with Advent, enter Christmas, round the corner to Lent, then Easter, with a lot of other things sprinkled here and there, but for the most part, we can anticipate what's coming.

So, I probably have a weirder sleep pattern than most of you. Maybe not, but I bet I do. It is not uncommon for me to be in bed by seven o'clock at night. Sometimes, if I'm splurging, it's six-thirty. Now I don't go right to sleep. I check out a podcast or two, or maybe I'll watch a Brit-crime show. Or some old Doctor Who. More often than not, a cooking show. But I'm in bed early.

So, I have this memory. I'm not sure it really happened – it may have kinda sorta happened and then my imagination just made it better as time went by. My mom was there, and she's here now, so I guess she can let me know if it really happened. And I suppose that I can just respond that, if she says no, well, I can just accuse her of being forgetful. So there's that.

So, I've recently started reading The Splendid and the Vile: A Saga of Churchill, Family, and Defiance During the Blitz, by Erik Larson. It’s the story of Winston Churchill’s first days in office, beginning in May, 1940, when he formed a coalition government with Labour, to lead Britain.

So, we are entering into our season of images, like we do every year. Such a weird time in America and much of the world. Many across the nation are currently caught up in search of a particular type of squash. And when they find just the right one, they will take it home, eviscerate it, and then carve a face into it. Then plop a candle down in it and call that a job well done. Such a weird thing to do.

So, I have preached this parable before. I have preached it as it is written and as it is often most typically understood — as a kind of warning to accept the invitation to the ‘banquet’ and to be ready to attend at a moment's notice. That God is offering us a great opportunity, and we need to decide, and decide right...or else. In fact, even this week as I read it I was going down that path once more, trying to think of a nice story to go along with it.