Sermon  - Rev. Judith Perry

Saint Matthew’s Church, September 7, 2025 

Actually, I don’t think that Philemon is “The Word of God” per say at all. 

 

It’s a letter that Paul sent with a runaway slave when he returned to his master, Philemon. The letter was asking for clemency. 

 

Slavery was just an accepted part of society at the time and for long after. The slaves were mostly hostages from the wars, and many were northern European. 

 

This scourge was biblically acceptable and has been with us for a very long time. 

 

Not everything condoned in the bible is either good or acceptable. 

But any letter by Paul was so revered that that it was saved and added to the Pauline collection. 

 

This was written by Paul. Some of the epistles, letters, attributed to Paul were not actually written by him, but this was. Paul was a real person. 

 

The story behind the letter is that Philemon is a believer who was likely converted through Paul’s ministry. Onesimus is his slave, but he has run away and ended up in Rome.  

 

Paul was under house arrest in Rome and, meets up with Onesimus. This encounters changes Onesimus and brings him to a greater faith in the good news of Christ. 

 

Paul sends him back to Philemon with the letter that we heard this morning. 

 

The letter is about how the believing in Christ changes how we treat one another. it’s a personal letter to Philemon, a Christian in Colossae, about his runaway slave, Onesimus. 

 

The heart of the letter is not about slavery as an institution, but about how the gospel transforms broken relationships. 

 

The letter was kept, and we have it today. I think that Philemon would have done right by Onesimus, or Philemon never would have saved the letter. 

 

Now I am going to tell you about me. My passion is early Christian mosaics, which means, of course, that I need to spend time in Italy, which is not bad at all. 

 

The thing about Italy is that the churches are not locked up. For part of the daytime they are open, and people walk in, stay a bit and then leave.  

 

People use them for prayer and quiet, from the smallest church in the villages to the many large basilicas in Rome. 

 

Some of the greatest art pieces are in these churches, just there for contemplation. 

 

This mosaic is from an early church in Rome, Santa Prassede. This is one of my favourite churches.  

 

The early Christian gatherings were in people’s homes.  

 

These folks had to be well-to-do, because the lower class insulae, homes, were small, a room or two and perhaps not a kitchen.  

These Romans ate fast food and take out. 

 

Prassede had money, and she and her sister, Prudentia, welcomed Paul into their home for worship and teaching, before he was put under house arrest. 

 

This church was built at the place of their home after Christianity became legal and tolerated. 

The mosaic portrays Paul with his arm around Prassede’s shoulder who, as you as you can see, is bejewelled and quite rich. 

Paul is this real guy; an affectionate guy. The mosaic is right above the altar in the apse. 

The thing about early Christian decoration is that it is all cheerful. Depictions of Jesus are often of him welcoming the faithful. There are no crucifixes or miserable martyrdoms. That came later. 

But now more about me. 

You have here an elderly woman, originally from Montreal, who lives down the road in the North End. The North End is diverse, vibrant and friendly. I love it. 

My balcony looks over the Royal Dock Yard. I love the harbour action. My dad was in the navy, and my mother said that my first word was “boat”. 

My parents met here in Halifax during the war. She was Air Force. He was on loan to the Royal Navy. Actually, they were both from Montreal. I think that I am the result of shore leave. 

I grew up in NDG, Notre Dame de Grace, a lower middle and working class part of the city. 

People think that being in Montreal it would be French speaking, but no, there was no French spoken. The second language was Yiddish, of which I learnt a few choice words. 

I was back there this summer. I heard a lot of languages, but not French. It is a cosmopolitan city much to the chagrin of the Quebec government. 

Sure, I learnt some French in school and just being around. 

With years comes experience. I have been around the block a few times. 

I suppose you want the usual statistics: two sons, seven grandchildren, and now those children are having children. 

One of my sons is here in Halifax, known to some of you, which is why I can’t use his antics as sermon material, and he has given me a lot of material. 

I was a Quebecer, but I moved to Annapolis thirty-one years ago. 

I am theologically progressive, liturgically a little conservative but pretty flexible when it comes to meeting the current need. 

I am unabashedly woke, and I hope you are too. 

We are living in tumultuous times which affects us all. A world order which we may have taken for granted is falling apart.  

We are daily besieged with the horror of wars, famines, atrocities, natural disasters, and the rapid disintegration of the United States of America. 

A true follower of Jesus must speak out. So, there is no way a preacher can be apolitical, and I just hope that most of us are on the same page. 

With all this turbulence within our congregation and within our world, I anticipate that my principal task will be pastoral care. 

Moreover, our own lives carry on, and not always smoothly. 

I am here to listen and to talk. Pastoral care is not only for the sick, dying and grieving. It is for everyone. 

So, invite me over to your place, for tea, for coffee, for a meal and let’s talk. We have never been in this place before. It is scary. This deep sense of unease permeates our present existence. 

I am here to listen. 

This summer I was with family north of Montreal, isolated enough to have no power, but with a lake and wildlife and relative peace.  

I had come into the village café to plug in my phone, when I saw an email from your search committee. 

And it went from there, and I am here. 

 I have been told that your magnificent pulpit is off limits unless I preach fire and brimstone. I don’t know how to do that. 

You are at a crossroads and discissions must be made. It is unsettling for many of you. I am not part of that process. I am here as a supply minister for ten months. 

This means that I don’t make great changes. and I keep things ticking along. But as I have already said, I am here to listen and to care for you all. 

And now we have the fires. I ministered in Bridgetown and lived for many years on the shore just out from the town, so the Annapolis fire is burning through what used to be where some of my congregation lived. 

These fires, this dreadful drought, this climate catastrophe affect us all profoundly. We are all in a dangerous time of profound change. But we are here together, and together we will care for each other, our city and our world. 

We are now in September, a time of beginnings, of harvest, school, work and activities. Remembering this let us pray. 

Source of life and blessing, 
of garden, orchard, field, 
root us in obedience to you 
and nourish us by your ever-flowing Spirit, 
that, perceiving only the good we might do, 
our lives may be fruitful, 
our labour productive, 
and our service useful, 
in communion with Jesus, our brother. Amen.