The Rev. Kenn Katona, Rector at St. Barnabas.
Like Sands Through the Hourglass…
There was once a pastor who began a sermon by saying, “Each member of this church is going to die and face judgment.” Glancing down at the front pew, he noticed a man with a big smile on his face. So, thinking he just needed to add a little more fire and brimstone, the pastor loudly repeated his point and added a couple of woe are you verses for good measure… However, the man in the front pew nodded and smiled even more. ...
The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
Jesus vs. The Sea of Galilee
One very early morning, not long after I had graduated from seminary, I decided to go for a walk. I got up from my bed and quietly got dressed so as not to wake up my roommate, grabbed my travel bible, and walked out of the hotel room that I was staying in. It was a bit chilly, and the sun was just coming up. My walk wasn’t long maybe five minutes, and eventually brought me to the shores of a lake. It was quiet, I was the first person who was out and about and there was a peacefulness that I haven’t often experienced. I sat down on a bench, and I took my shoes off and waded a few feet into the lake. I looked down while I was picking up a rock or two and noticed that the lake shore was made up of billions upon billions of tiny seashells. I then took a few deep breaths and began to read the gospel of Mark… To be honest, I could barely believe it, but I was standing with my feet in the sea of Galilee… Jesus and his disciples had once been here… Jesus had once looked across this vast sea just as I was doing at that moment and decided to cross to the other side, Jesus had once said “peace, be still…” and the sea I was standing in, did as it was told. ...
Communion & Community
Dear People of St. Barnabas’,
Grace and peace to you all. I write to you this morning from the kitchen table in our home. All is quiet… Perhaps I should excitedly repeat that: All is quiet! Moments like these are few and far between and tend to only happen between the hours of five and seven in the morning when you have a two-and-a-half-year-old at home who is often compared to a wrecking ball. It’s strange to be able to hear myself think, let alone to not be interrupted by either the sound of something breaking, or by the sweetest voice trying to coax me into “playing trucks” or reading a story. The silence I am currently experiencing certainly feels strange and yet familiar.
Much of what many of us are experiencing right now in life feels strange and yet familiar. Whether it be seeing mask less people at the grocery store, meeting a friend for coffee, eating inside of a restaurant, or even going to church. Daily things we once took for granted are coming back, and yet, speaking for myself, I can say that there is still a feeling of nervousness when it comes to certain things that I have been unable to do during the last fifteen or so months. It is nice that we are experiencing light at the end of the tunnel, and while mindfulness is still necessary, many of the relational aspects of our lives that we’ve been missing for so long now are returning and feel strange and familiar at the same time. ...
The Unforgivable Sin
I’ve been wrestling a lot with the lectionary this week. Wishing that I could just find something else to preach on, something a bit… Clearer… Maybe something with a little more pop… I even wrote an entire sermon that is now in the trash… Which come to think of it seems to have been happening more and more lately… Some might say, “Hey! That’s great the Holy Spirit is speaking so clearly here at St. Barnabas…” But to be honest, I think this is likely more of a symptom of me not listening well enough the first time… ...
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