{"id":3782,"date":"2025-04-20T11:00:08","date_gmt":"2025-04-20T15:00:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/?p=3782"},"modified":"2025-04-28T22:50:34","modified_gmt":"2025-04-29T02:50:34","slug":"entrance-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/2025\/04\/20\/entrance-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Entrance"},"content":{"rendered":"

Click here to hear the full service<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Click here to watch the full service<\/a><\/p>\n

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Luke 24:1\u201312<\/i><\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

Click here to hear just the sermon<\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

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\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Entrance<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Luke 24: 1-12<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Easter Sunday<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Marsh Chapel<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

April 20, 2025<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Robert Allan Hill<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>The Lord is Risen! He is Risen\u00a0Indeed!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Easter comes to entrance. To entrance with wonder. To entrance for practice.\u00a0 <\/span>Two lanterns to light today!<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>For those who might have suspected that we forgot to change the sermon title, from Palm Sunday to Easter, fear not.\u00a0 <\/span>It is the same lettering for sure, but for Palm Sunday it was the noun, entrance, the entrance to Jerusalem, and for Easter it is the verb, entrance, to entrance in wonder, joyful wonder, and to entrance in personal practice.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Now we in Boston this year are remembering, after 250 years, Paul Revere\u2019s ride.\u00a0 <\/span>Some of us will hear the full poem again on Marathon Monday.\u00a0 <\/span>Boston University is certainly about academics, research, community, diversity and globality.\u00a0 <\/span>We are global, a global University.\u00a0 <\/span>But we are also, and fully, local, BOSTON University.\u00a0 <\/span>Said Revere,<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Of the North Church tower as a signal light<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>One if by land, and two if by sea, and I on the opposite shore will be.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>(Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 1903)<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Two lanterns. And come the festival of Easter, we too, in the church, light two lanterns, as Easter comes to entrance us, in wonder and in practice.<\/p>\n

One<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>First, in wonder.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span><\/em>Joanna, <\/em>otherwise a stranger to us, has been included, in Luke, in the group of women who religiously approach the tomb. \u00a0She is a newcomer. You may be too. You may be leaning toward, even longing for, a first encounter in faith. Good. \u00a0In the main, this service, in the main every Easter sermon, is mainly meant for you.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Joanna, and others. You. You are here on Easter. \u00a0Something, some lingering memory of a lingering memory, has brought you along. Ordinary, regular religious practice<\/em>\u2014ask Joanna\u2014can sometimes, suddenly, surprisingly, bring illumination. \u00a0\u00a0Our preaching, here, is in part for those who are in between. Not religious enough to come to church every Sunday, but religious enough to listen. \u00a0Still within earshot. Not preaching to the choir\u2014at least not ONLY to the choir! \u00a0<\/span>Easter preaching, if for the ecclesiastical expatriate, the atheist, the one harmed by the church, the musician attuned\u2014seemingly\u2014only to the music, the academic, the lonely at home.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Our festival today affirms your religious practice, affirms your choice to be here, to listen in, and affirms that the detailed discipline of attention to the sacred, can be showered with light. \u00a0The women, Joanna and others, are keeping the Sabbath by waiting until the first day of the week. They are keeping tradition by anointing the body, with materials earlier prepared. They are keeping faith by facing death. \u00a0By visiting the tomb, the flesh, the corpse. Habits lead us forward. At early dawn. Death makes us mortal. Facing death makes us human. At the tomb.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>On Easter we are entranced by wonder.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>The women in Luke might affirm what we find all around us, when we pause to notice.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>A lantern lit in wonder.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>There is the sweetness of a newborn child<\/em>, silent in the arm.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>There is the orderly happiness of that rarest of arts, a well-written email.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>There is a touch of humor.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>There is a calm.<\/em> \u00a0Drop thy still dews of quietness \u2018til all our strivings cease. \u00a0Take from our souls the strain and stress, and let our ordered lives confess, the beauty of thy peace.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>There is the native hue of resolution<\/em> hiding behind hope.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>There is the patterned simplicity of a well lived life.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>There is the beauty of dawn or sunset<\/em> or both.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>There is music, beautiful music, invisible beauty, the ringing beauty of music<\/em>.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>There are hints and allegations and forms of presence.<\/em> \u00a0You cannot be fully alive, humanly speaking, and miss them. \u00a0Wonder.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Joanna teaches us: \u00a0The world does not lack for wonders but only for a sense of wonder.<\/em> \u00a0Or was that GK Chesterton?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Joanna teaches us: Philosophy begins in wonder. <\/em>Or was that the founder of Boston Personalism, Borden Parker Bowne?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Joanna teaches us (trigger warning for academics here): \u00a0\u00a0The larger the body of knowledge, the longer the shoreline of mystery that surrounds it. \u00a0<\/em>The larger the lake of learning, the longer the lakeshore of mystery that surrounds it. \u00a0Or was that Ralph Sockman?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Joanna teaches us: I would rather learn from one bird how to sing than teach 10,000 stars how not to dance. \u00a0<\/em>Or was that e. e. cummings?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Joanna teaches us: \u00a0Just what are you going to do with your one beautiful life? <\/em>Or was that Mary Oliver?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>You listen to a child singing<\/em> alone just before falling to sleep, and tell me you sense no entrancement?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>You watch a 9-year old<\/em>, ball glove on, striding toward Fenway park, other hand in his Dad\u2019s hand, and tell me you sense no amazement?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>You see Lake Lucille<\/em>. \u00a0You look down from the Matterhorn.<\/em> \u00a0You walk in mid- December through a jewelry store<\/em>. \u00a0And no wonder?<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>You come into a barn at dawn,<\/em> with the milking in gear, and Louis Armstrong<\/em> on the radio. \u00a0You watch a daughter caring for her father<\/em> in the last month of life. \u00a0You hear the anthems of Easter<\/em>. \u00a0And tell me you sense no entrancement? No wonder? No \u201cthaumadzon\u201d?<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Joanna schools us about wonder. Easter lights a candle of wonder, and repeats\u2026Entrance, entrance, entrance, entrance\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

Two<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Second, practice.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 There is come Easter a second candle, not of wonder but of practice, of holding fast to what is good.\u00a0 Thurman schools us about practice.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 9\u00a0<\/em><\/sup><\/span>Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; 10\u00a0<\/sup>love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. 11\u00a0<\/sup>Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. 12\u00a0<\/sup>Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. 13\u00a0<\/sup>Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Practice in faith means to hold fast to what is good.<\/p>\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Hold fast to what is good, as did Howard Thurman, the Dean of our Marsh Chapel, Boston University, 1953-1965, through poetry, through painting, through psalms.<\/p>\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Thurman was a poetic theologian, a theological poet.\u00a0 <\/span>Presence, his sense of presence, his practice of presence, intimate to the natural world, made him so.\u00a0 <\/span>He was 100 years ahead of his time 50 years ago, so he is still 50 years ahead of me!\u00a0 <\/span>Late at night, along his beloved Daytona Beach, he remembered walking alone and with his feet in the sand. He wrote, The ocean and the night surrounded my little life with a reassurance that could not be affronted by any human behavior.\u00a0 <\/span>The ocean at night gave me a sense of timelessness, of existing beyond the ebb and flow of consciousness.\u00a0 <\/span>Death would be a small thing I felt in the sweep of that natural embrace.<\/em>\u00a0 <\/span>May you discover or be discovered by such poetry.<\/p>\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Thurman was a painter.\u00a0 <\/span>He did paint with brush and canvass, and loved to depict penguins, among other figures.\u00a0 <\/span>Presence, his sense of presence, his practice of presence, intimate to the natural world, led him so.\u00a0 <\/span>But they were the verbal paintings, the metaphors in speech, that were his greatest gifts.\u00a0 <\/span>One favorite was \u2018a crown to grow into\u2019.\u00a0 <\/span>A crown is placed over our heads the for the rest of our lives we are trying to grow tall enough to wear.<\/em>Today, April 5, 2022, may you discover or be discovered by such a verbal painting, a rhetorical portrait.<\/p>\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Thurman was a lover of the Psalms.\u00a0 <\/span>Presence, his sense of presence, his practice of presence, intimate to the natural world, led him so. You cannot find, or know, him without worship, sacrament, prayer, singing, spirituals, preaching\u2014without religion.\u00a0 <\/span>And particularly the Psalms.\u00a0 <\/span>He had a favorite, or two.\u00a0 <\/span>Perhaps you do as well.<\/p>\n

1\u00a0<\/sup><\/em>O Lord, you have searched me and known me.
\n2\u00a0<\/sup>You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
\nyou discern my thoughts from far away.
\n3\u00a0<\/sup>You search out my path and my lying down,
\nand are acquainted with all my ways.
\n4\u00a0<\/sup>Even before a word is on my tongue,
\nO Lord, you know it completely.
\n5\u00a0<\/sup>You hem me in, behind and before,
\nand lay your hand upon me.
\n6\u00a0<\/sup>Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
\nit is so high that I cannot attain it.<\/em><\/p>\n

7\u00a0<\/sup><\/em>Where can I go from your spirit?
\nOr where can I flee from your presence?
\n8\u00a0<\/sup>If I ascend to heaven, you are there;
\nif I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.
\n9\u00a0<\/sup>If I take the wings of the morning
\nand settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
\n10\u00a0<\/sup>even there your hand shall lead me,
\nand your right hand shall hold me fast.
\n11\u00a0<\/sup>If I say, \u201cSurely the darkness shall cover me,
\nand the light around me become night,\u201d
\n12\u00a0<\/sup>even the darkness is not dark to you;
\nthe night is as bright as the day,
\nfor darkness is as light to you.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Today, may you discover or be discovered by such a psalm, a new favorite or an old one.\u00a0 <\/span>No, more. Today may you be illumined in personal practice, in the practice of faith, in poetry, painting and psalms.\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>The world needs it. \u00a0<\/span>In a world in which there is so much wrong, we need Marsh Chapel, one such in every village, every town, every suburb, and every city.\u00a0 <\/span>But it is the simple practices\u2014prayer, worship, study, conversation, service\u2014the daily rhythms\u2014that see us through.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Our friend\u2019s dad, Russell Clark, a Colgate and BU graduate, loved life as a small-town pastor, in the village of Oriskany Falls NY. One winter a farmer, his lay leader died, and his widow was not in church for a long time. \u00a0The pastor tried to console and help, but she didn\u2019t want company. (Grief is a slippery dragon. If I had another two lifetimes I would spend half of one really studying, trying to understand grief. \u00a0It is a dark stranger, an opaque mystery, individual to each.) For Russell\u2019s Oriskany Falls widow it was too. Then one day she called to say that she would like a pastoral visit. She told him something, when he asked how she was doing. \u00a0She began: Don\u2019t take this the wrong way, Rev. \u00a0(<\/em>You know you are already in trouble with that prelude.) \u00a0It has been so unutterably hard for me. \u00a0There were days when I could not get out of bed. \u00a0But I did. And do you know why? It wasn\u2019t the resurrection sermons I have heard, or Easter hyms I can sing by part, much as I love both. No. \u00a0What got me going, got me out of bed was\u2026the chickens. Every morning at dawn they would fuss, and rustle around and cluck, waiting to be fed. \u00a0They were hungry and they needed feeding. So, I got up and put on my robe and went out and fed them. By then the sun was up, by then the mist was lifted, by then I was awake, and by then I could stand the thought of breakfast, and after that, well the day opened up. \u00a0So don\u2019t take this the wrong way, Rev. (<\/em>you know you are in trouble when\u2026), don\u2019t take this the wrong way, but the clucking of those hens meant more to me in my grief than all the hymns and sermons of Easter. \u00a0The clucking of those chickens meant more to me than all the hymns of Easter.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>You see? \u00a0The rhythms of life, evening and morning one day, detailed disciplined attention to the routine can by grace light a befry candle. \u00a0Including religious practice. Joanna, the newcomer, found it so. So can you, especially if you on Easter are a newcomer, looking for a first helping, an initial course in faith, a church family to love and church home to enjoy.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>The women are going about their regular rhythms, in the hour of death. They are finding ritual hand holds as they walk the dark path, the pre-dawn path, of grief. In grief, they stick to their regular routines. Joanna and the women, moving at dawn, through the mist, toward the tomb, attending to the routine practices of the day, may teach us. \u00a0Our festival today affirms religious practice, affirms your choice to be here, to listen in, and affirms that the detailed discipline of attention to the sacred, can fully entrance. \u00a0 Or in Longfellow\u2019s language:<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Of the North Church tower as a signal light<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>One if by land, and two if by sea, and I on the opposite shore will be.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>Two lanterns. Come the festival of Easter, we too, in the church, light two lanterns, as Easter comes to entrance us, in wonder and in practice.<\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span>The Lord is Risen!\u00a0 <\/span>He is Risen indeed.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Click here to hear the full service Click here to watch the full service Luke 24:1\u201312 Click here to hear just the sermon   \u00a0 Entrance Luke 24: 1-12 Easter Sunday Marsh Chapel April 20, 2025 Robert Allan Hill \u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The Lord is Risen! He is Risen\u00a0Indeed! \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Easter comes to entrance. To entrance […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2679,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[22],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3782"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2679"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3782"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3782\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3783,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3782\/revisions\/3783"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3782"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3782"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.bu.edu\/sermons\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3782"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}