God Loves Leftovers: A Sermon Preached by the Reverend Rob Lee

God Loves Leftovers

John 6:1-21

July 26^th, 2015

FBC|WJ

I don’t like today. I don’t like that this is my next to last Sunday with you all. Also, I don’t like leftovers, ask my family or my bread breakers small group and they will tell you I don’t do leftovers. But isn’t it funny, how God takes us precisely where we do not wish to go, and meets us there. 

Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid. These words have shown up in Scripture where the person or people receiving these words should probably have been quite afraid. Abram was told not to be afraid, Moses, Joshua, Samuel, Elijah, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, Zechariah, the Virgin Mary, Joseph, shepherds in the fields keeping watch over their flocks by night are all told not to be afraid. We’re in good company with today’s lectionary reading.

Today we hear two very distinct stories in the Gospel of John. We hear of the five loaves and two fish, and we hear the disciples getting in a boat and having to face Jesus amidst the sea and the storm. Jesus says to them in the sea and wind and the rain, “Do not be afraid.” Now the funny part of it is, he says it while walking on water.

Jesus walking on water telling people not to be afraid; I wonder what he was telling them not to be afraid of, the storm or the fact that there was a human being out in the middle of the sea walking towards them. Do not be afraid. I think that’s easy for Jesus to say, I think it’s easy for the angels to say to those they encounter with news that changes the course of human history. But as with anything it’s a lot harder to be on the receiving end of that do not be afraid nonsense, right. In fact, if you tell people do not be afraid it might actually create more anxiety and fear in the culture in which we live.

So I wanted to ask you today, given the text we just heard what scares you most? What scares you the most in life? Is it death? Is it loss? Is it depression? Is it something that is too dark to even speak its name in this place? How have you dealt with that fear and anxiety and unrest in your life? These are all questions that we face on sometimes a day-to-day basis. And I think we can face them with dignity and with grace by weaving these two seemingly unrelated stories together.

12 baskets left over. That’s an abundant amount of leftovers. And I love how Jesus commands in verse 12 of the lectionary that we heard today, “Gather up the fragments leftover, so that nothing may be lost.” Nothing may be lost. God loves leftovers, and frankly these emotions of fear and anxiety and defeat over our earthly lives are things we’d like to leave in the leftover pile. But that, my friends is where God does God’s best work.

You see the funny thing about fear is that it has power over us, it controls us, it manipulates us into the thing that fear wants us to be or to feel. But there in the moments of the stormiest night the disciples had faced thus far Jesus comes and says to them, “Do not be afraid.” Jesus takes control of their fear by calling it as it is. And in so doing he frees the disciples to experience the warmth of his presence.

We too, experience this same phenomenon. We too experience the warming presence of a loving God in our most fearful moments. For in our most anxiety-ridden experiences God is showing up saying, “Do not be afraid, it is I.” God takes the fear that we’d like to leave behind and God confronts it head on. We too must do the same and follow in God’s footsteps

Now you might say to yourself that certainly can’t be true, preacher. I’m not sure about this God stuff anyway but to say that God meets us in our fear is preposterous. I hear what you’re saying because I too feel that sometimes when I am most scared I couldn’t be farther away from a living and loving God. But then I just have to remind myself to let Jesus walk on my water. Let Jesus trample out the fear and the despair and the heartache, and yes even death itself.

I’ve wondered about all the times I’ve been told not to be afraid. Certainly after car accidents and hospital visits warrant the normal exchange of encouragement not to fear. But I’ve also had to say this phrase, “Do not be afraid.” so many times this past week in every day affairs just to myself. You see this past week I’ve had to come to terms with my time coming to an end in this place and in Boone. I’ve been crossing off Boone Bucket list items with friends such as going to Tweetsie Railroad one more time and eating one more time at the Daniel Boone Inn before we all go our separate ways. I’m having to come to terms with leaving Stephanie here in Boone while I head to Durham, I’ve had to come to terms with saying goodbye to my friend Natalie who is moving to San Antonio, I’ve had to come to terms with saying goodbye to you all here in this place two Sundays from now.

But the other day as I was cleaning out and getting ready for the move I found a piece of paper that has been my guiding light for some time. I received this piece of paper around the time my friend Abbey died years ago and to this day it keeps popping up when I need it most. It has words such as these, “Do not look forward in fear to the changes in life; rather look to them with full hope that as they arise, God, whose very own you are will lead you safely through all things; and when you cannot stand it, God will carry you in his arms. Do not fear what may happen tomorrow; the same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you then and every day. He will either shield you from suffering, or will give you unfailing strength to bear it. Be at peace and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations.”

Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid dear people of God because God loves leftovers like you and me. God loves leftovers because there is room for everyone at the table of grace. And there, at the table of grace we are more than leftovers, we are welcomed guests at a banquet fit for the children of God.

Do not be afraid. You all know how I have to deal with extreme anxiety. Ask Stephanie or my parents or anyone close to me and they know that even the slightest thing can set me off. But I’m learning, quite literally to practice what I preach and not fear the future or the past but to relish the moment we have been given. When we let Jesus walk on our water, it changes everything. It changes our perception of grace and that is precisely what we need. We need to see Jesus on the water for it is there that we realize that the Savior of the world can face the worst the world can throw at him and he can take it. Even if that means going to a cross Jesus took the brunt force of everything we could give him and shrugged it off three days later. So we can face our time and our place with faith and without fear because Christ is risen, Christ is risen indeed.

            When I was in middle school I went to a private conservative Christian School where my classmates felt it more fun to mess with this crazy Methodist church nerd than it was to play on the playground. One girl in particular had it out for me. She wanted to prove to me that everything that I knew to be true about a loving God was wrong. And I’ll never forget one conversation she tried to have with me. She told me it was a sin to fear. She argued that in Philippians, Paul commands us to not worry or fear anything. Now obviously I’d like to say I won that theological argument but I didn’t have an answer for her. I just thought she was right and that fear is something that should be avoided at all costs.

            That was until I realized Jesus himself experienced fear. Jesus knew what it was like the night before he gave himself up for us when he went to the garden alone. So Jesus knows and Jesus meets us in our fear and Jesus feeds our fear, with faith. Just as he fed those hungry masses millennia ago we are fed too. We are fed with the words and with the comfort that we are not alone. We are God’s. And in belonging to God, we are no longer leftovers but a chosen and cherished people. So maybe now, I can like leftovers, maybe now, I can appreciate today. Do not be afraid, do not be afraid. Amen.

Dusty Prophets in Our Midst: July 5th Sermon Preached by the Reverend Rob Lee

A Sermon Preached by the Reverend Rob Lee

Ezekiel 37:1-14, Mark 6:1-13

July 5^th, 2015

FBC|WJ

Will you pray with me?

            God of the prophets and saints, God of the martyrs and the sages, speak to me, speak through me, if necessary, in spite of me. Always beyond me that in everything you may be glorified by your Son Jesus Christ, who with you and the Holy Spirit lives and reigns forever. Amen.

            They say that the fireworks of the 4^th of July can cause trauma for those who are experiencing Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. So much, that this year, there was a social media campaign to remind people to be considerate of those who have experienced emotional or physical trauma after being sent out to war and have to come home to hear bombs bursting in air.

I’m sure the prophet Ezekiel and the twelve that were sent out far and wide were feeling a little bit of emotional trauma or even PTSD after what happens to them in our lessons today. Ezekiel is told he is a prophet, and must go and prophesy to the dead dry bones of Israel. And likewise in Mark’s Gospel we hear of the disciples going out and taking nothing with them and proclaiming that the kingdom of God is at hand. This is a really great definition of a prophet: challenging the comfortable and comforting the challenged, proclaiming that the kingdom of God is at hand.

            This got me thinking a little bit this week about what a modern day prophet might look like. When I say the word prophet or prophecy I immediately as you might go to the Left Behind series or people standing on the street with placards across their chest saying that you’re going to hell in a hand-basket unless you say the sinner’s prayer three time each Tuesday morning before tea-time. When we hear the word prophet we think of someone or some concept that is dare I say a little off their rocker.

            But then we mention the prophets of old, when we think of Isaiah, Jeremiah, Malachi, Ezekiel, Amos, we see respect and dignity because these people heard the voice of God and acted. So let me propose to you that being a prophet requires three things.

            The first thing being a prophet requires is tough skin, ask any preacher who proclaims the word of God and then gets negative feedback after a sermon and they will tell you that to be a proclaimer of the Gospel message you have to have tough skin. To be a prophet in this day and age requires you to be able to take things for a grain of salt. It requires that you stand for what you know to be true about God and the community of faith and that you listen to the voice of God some times in spite of what the community around you is saying. We see this best in Mark’s Gospel when Jesus said, “If a place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake the dust off your feet as testimony against them.” Friends we need a few dusty prophets in our midst. At my home church of Broad Street United Methodist in Statesville there’s this one church lady who when I was interning there and was very obviously frazzled before the service would remind me to, “Wipe it away.” Don’t let anxiety over your message threaten what God might do through you.

            The second thing a prophet must possess in our day and age is soft skin. You might say to me, now preacher you’re getting a little off your rocker there yourself. You just said that prophets must have tough skin and now you’re saying that to be a prophet you must have soft skin? Why yes, dear friends, I am saying that to be a prophet in our time you must have soft skin. You must possess vulnerability and a soft-spot for the people who need it most. You must be willing to meet people where they are and prophesy to their dry bones. For in so doing you are offering them an encounter with Jesus Christ. You are reminding them that there is nothing in death or life, in the world as it is, or the world as it shall be, nothing in all creation that can separate us from the love of God. Now that requires you being willing to admit to the people that you have touched the wounds of Christ as Thomas wanted to, and Christ has touched your wounds. It requires you being honest about who you are and whose you are. It is imperative to be a prophet that you lay everything on the line, even if it risks you being an outcast, a social pariah, or even death itself.

            Finally, the third and possibly most important thing that being a prophet requires of you would be as Bishop Michael Curry would say, “You have to be a crazy Christian.” Bishop Curry, who was elected this past week as the 27^th presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church has this to say about being a crazy Christian, “We need Christians crazy enough to believe that God is real and that Jesus lives. Crazy enough to follow the radical way of the Gospel. Crazy enough to believe that the love of God is greater than all the powers of evil and death. Crazy enough to believe, as Dr. King often said, that though “the moral arc of the universe is long, and it bends toward justice.” We need some Christians crazy enough to believe that children don’t have to go to bed hungry; that the world doesn’t have to be the way it often seems to be; that there is a way to lay down our swords and shields, down by the riverside; that as the slaves used to sing, “There's plenty good room in my Father's kingdom,” because every human being has been created in the image of God, and we are all equally children of God and meant to be treated as such.” You see Bishop Curry is on to something. If we’re going to speak with the authority of Elijah or Ezekiel we need the craziness of King David dancing or Daniel believing that prayer could shut the mouths of lions. If we’re going to heal, preach, and teach like Moses did in the dessert or like Jesus did in the Gospel then we’re going to have to be crazy enough to believe it to be true. You see being a prophet is more than prophesying to dead bones, it’s about believing in the resurrecting power of a God who can cause life to come to those dead, dry, bones. I mean those bones were really dry, they were dead and gone, yet the God of life and death can bring forth the beauty of life from even the driest of bones.

            This prophet stuff had me thinking of a prophet of modernity who called out the powers at be and said that they must change. The man had tough skin, yet was vulnerable to the weak and the enslaved: A man by the name of Frederick Douglass. Frederick Douglass was a former slave who became a black abolitionist and African Methodist Episcopal Zion preacher during the 19^th century. You see on July 5^th, 1852, 163 years to the day, Frederick Douglass gave a speech entitled, “What to the Slave is the 4^th of July?” In his speech he categorically and singlehandedly tells a crowded group of New Yorkers a prophetic word about the church, this is what he said, “But the church of this country is not only indifferent to the wrongs of the slave, it actually takes sides with the oppressors. It has made itself the bulwark of American slavery, and the shield of American slave-hunters. Many of its most eloquent Divines. who stand as the very lights of the church, have shamelessly given the sanction of religion and the Bible to the whole slave system. They have taught that man may, properly, be a slave; that the relation of master and slave is ordained of God; that to send back an escaped bondman to his master is clearly the duty of all the followers of the Lord Jesus Christ; and this horrible blasphemy is palmed off upon the world for Christianity.” Now if you were a Christian sitting in that room 163 years ago you would feel the sting of those words no doubt, Douglass goes on to say, “Let the religious press, the pulpit, the Sunday school, the conference meeting, the great ecclesiastical, missionary, Bible and tract associations of the land array their immense powers against slavery and slave-holding; and the whole system of crime and blood would be scattered to the winds.” You see what Douglass did? He called them out with tough skin, pleaded to them with a crazy notion and finally ends with vulnerability here at the end of his speech, “Allow me to say, in conclusion, notwithstanding the dark picture I have this day presented of the state of the nation, I do not despair of this country. There are forces in operation, which must inevitably work the downfall of slavery. “The arm of the Lord is not shortened,” and the doom of slavery is certain. I, therefore, leave off where I began, with hope.”

            Dear people of God that’s what it means to be a prophet. It means laying down the sword and shield down by the riverside. It means calling for an end to the sins of this world and of the church. It means that in our time and our place we are called to be Frederick Douglass, Harriet Tubman, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Abraham Lincoln, Peter, Paul, Andrew, Thomas, even a representation of Jesus himself. This, my friends is our solemn duty, and one we must not take lightly.

            In the Episcopal tradition there is a book entitled, Holy Women, Holy Men that commemorates the work of those well-known saints who have gone on to glory. Each person honored in that book has a prayer, and I’d like to pray the prayer that praises God for the work of Frederick Douglass as we close. May we pray together?

 Almighty God, whose truth makes us free: We bless your name for the witness of Frederick Douglass, whose impassioned and reasonable speech move the hearts of a president and a people to a deeper obedience to Christ. Strengthen us also to be outspoken on behalf of those in captivity and tribulation, continuing in the Word of Jesus Christ our Liberator; who with you, and the Holy Spirit dwells in glory everlasting. Amen.

And Are We Yet Alive: June 28th Sermon Preached by the Reverend Rob Lee

A Sermon Preached by the Reverend Rob Lee

Psalm 13, Exodus 6:1-13

June 28^th, 2015

FBC|WJ

Will you pray with me?

Risen Lord! shall yet the city be the city of despair? Come today, our Judge, our Glory; be its name, “The Lord is there!” God may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be pleasing in your sight O Lord our strength, and our redeemer. Amen.

            In the mountains of North Carolina sits a cross, a cross that lights up at night much like the one behind me. In the mountains of North Carolina sits an auditorium below that cross, where I first heard God’s call on my life. Lake Junaluska is a piece of Heaven for me. There I feel refreshed and renewed with grace. Back in my Methodist days we’d gather there for Annual Conference, a business session on steroids if you will, we’d worship, we’d vote, and we’d reconnect.

            You see it’s tradition at these gatherings to sing certain hymns. One of them is one we’ll sing today, And Are We Yet Alive, a sturdy Charles Wesley tune that begs the question of if we are alive to be in fellowship and friendship with one another. It’s a good question to ask, but we’ll see more of that in a minute.

            Today we hear words from Exodus, God’s promise to free the Israelites from slavery in Egypt through God’s servant Moses. These are timely words, words that we need to hear today. Because frankly now is a good time to begin freeing each other and ourselves from what binds us. And I think I caught a glimpse of that in Washington D.C. with our youth on their mission trip

            You see I feel like I saw Amanda, Caroline, Chelsie and Kennedy confront the Pharaoh of government, and speak truth to power. I saw Stephanie and Jane our fearless chaperones confront oppression and injustice. And yes, even I felt the transformative power of watching our youth shine with the light of Christ.

            You see it’s not an easy undertaking to go to Washington or to Egypt, Moses knew it and I realized it this past week. It begs the question, and are we yet alive? Or maybe better than that, and are we in our right minds? Are we in our right minds to go to a place that is portrayed in the news media as a den of vipers? Are we alive enough to confront the most powerful government this world has seen since the glory days of Britain or Rome?

            And are we yet alive? The answer is no, some of us aren’t. While we were on our trip 9 people were shot and killed and sacrificed in a church on the altar of white supremacy. And are we yet alive? The answer is no because we are blinded by our own sins of systemic racism and hatred.

            And are we yet alive? The answer is yes for some of us, physically, and no for some of us spiritually or emotionally. We’re dead to this world because we’ve just stopped caring. We’ve run from Egypt like Moses did, either by our own fault or because of sheer apathy. But you see that’s where God comes in and reminds us what it’s like to be alive.

            God says, “Go and tell Pharaoh, the king of Egypt to let my people go.” You see we like the Israelites need a good word. We need the freeing words of grace. People of good faith in Charleston need the promise of the Jordan now. People of sound mind in Baltimore need the hope of the resurrection now. People down on their luck in Washington D.C. who we encountered need the promise of the Good Shepherd now.

As I was in D.C. I wondered what would happen if Christians became fully alive and went to Egypt? I wonder if it would be similar to the great battles of history. I wonder if it would be like the Visigoths marching over the Seven Hills to finally conquer the Roman Empire, or the Battles between Washington and Cornwallis where not a wave of bloodshed but grace overtook our land and this country like those battles did in violence, we could do in freedom. I caught a glimpse of that outpouring of tears and hard work and hope with these youth speaking truth to power and honestly I felt alive.

I felt inspired. I felt inspired by these young people to continue my mission and ministry in this world, and you should too. Because speaking truth to power is what the church does. It was T.S. Eliot who wrote: "Why should men love the Church? Why should they love her laws? She tells them of Life and Death, and of all that they would forget. She is tender where they would be hard, and hard where they like to be soft. She tells them of Evil and Sin, and other unpleasant facts."  You see church it’s our job to remind the powers at be, the Pharaohs of this land that God is not done with God’s people yet. God is working in Charleston, God is working in Washington D.C. and yes God is working right here in West Jefferson.

The church’s purpose, its entire existence hinges on freeing people from the bondage of sin and despair. We are beacons of the resurrection, and we are people who were once slaves in Egypt, but now are free. Because in the end, as we have seen this past week in so many ways, love prevails. Love prevailed in D.C. in Charleston, South Carolina, and yes love won.

In this free world in which we live and have our being it’s easy to lose track and get complacent with our freedom. And we Baptists of all people should celebrate our freedom. For when we celebrate our freedom and redemption from the bonds of slavery in Egypt we simultaneously give others permission to be freed as well.

I can remember the first time I met Lizzie the poodle. Lizzie was down on her luck. She was born to show poodles, and her owner wanted a perfect poodle specimen to be able to show. But Lizzie has a brown nose and poodles are supposed to have black noses if their going to be show animals. When I met Lizzie she was chained up outside while the other poodles were inside. When I met Lizzie the owner told me there were other poodles that might be more desirable inside. But I could tell Lizzie was for me.

I am confident that one of the manifestations of the glory of God is a poodle being fully alive. (To borrow from Saint Irenaeus) Lizzie is now living and loving and kind. But most of all, she is desired. We all yearn to be desired, to have basic human dignity and rights. The youth saw this in D.C. this past week as they met with persons who hadn’t always had human dignity, or persons who are fighting for equality even to this day.

You see in a world where we argue over healthcare and marriage rights we forget the people in those issues who simply need to be loved. I know from watching Facebook this past week that we all don’t agree on these issues. But First Baptist I know it to be true about you that we may not be uniform in thought, but we are united in love. We are called regardless of our disagreements to be alive; to show respect for human dignity and show a love that can warm even the hardest of hearts. We are called to remember that these issues are more than political or religious talking points; they are about people who yearn to be alive like we are. So in your actions, in your words, in your posts on social media, may we all remember that God is bigger and greater and more mysterious than us, and God calls us to live and be free. Free from hatred and prejudice, free from bonds of whatever binds us, and free from our own self-pity and doubt.

Dear people of God, may you experience what it means to be truly alive. May you experience your freedom and identity as a follower of the risen Christ in new and awesome ways this week. But most importantly may you go to Egypt, wherever that is for you. May you free people who are bound by the slavery of sin and death, may you free people to live and love and feel the warmth of God’s grace. So that when someone asks, and are we yet alive, we may give a resounding yes. We may give a resounding yes and be free. All glory, honor, and power be to the one who was, who is, and who is to come. Amen.

No Small Thing: An Ordination Sermon Preached by the Reverend Nathan Kirkpatrick

No Small Thing

The Ordination Sermon for Robert Wright Lee, IV

First Baptist Church, West Jefferson NC

Matthew 9.35-38

Easter IV

I wanted to believe that I was special and that’s why Rob asked me to preach today. In reality, though, I think he just asked the Episcopalian in hopes that the sermon would be short. 

It is an honor to be with you today and to share this day with you. In some ways, I bring you greetings from Rob's future -- from the faculty, staff, administration and student body of Duke Divinity School. We are very much looking forward to his joining our community this summer. And I promise you one thing, we will do our level best not to screw up the great education and formation that you have given him here.

I am confident that the God who has begun a good work in Rob through you will complete it for the day of Jesus Christ. 

It is no small thing that we do today. 

It is no small thing for us, as a gathered community, to honor the call of God and the way that the Spirit has nurtured a person to respond that calling in faith. 

It is no small thing to set a person a part from but within a community for Christian service. It is no small thing to pray the Spirit to consecrate our brother for Christian ministry through Word and Sacrament and Service. It is no small thing. It is actually quite an extraordinary thing that we do today. 

When I was a child, one of my ministers would say that every baptism was a sign that God had not given up on the world, that God is utterly dedicated to restoring the world one-person-at-a-time if God had to. 

Today, we could say the same thing. An ordination to the Christian ministry is a sign that God has not given up on the world, that God’s love is unrelenting and undaunted, that God yearns for the prophetic word to go forth that light will overwhelm darkness, that hope will conquer hate, that justice will defeat oppression, that love will swallow up fear, and that life will overcome death itself. In the wonder of this afternoon, in word and act, we proclaim as loudly as we can that God is not done with us. By our collective presence here today, we bear witness to the fact that God has stirred our brother Rob to announce to the world that God has not forgotten or forsaken us but instead has redeemed it and is restoring it still. It is no small thing that we do today.

Rob, it is no small thing that you do today.

Today marks a change for you. It signals a Spirit-led shift in you. We celebrate that with you.

But if today doesn't scare you a bit, you're naive, my friend.

And having known you for almost a decade, I have never experienced you as naive. 

I imagine that you are a bit scared today,

in the way that Moses was scared before the burning bush,

in the way that Isaiah was overwhelmed by an angelic vision,

in the way that Jeremiah protested, "but I'm just a boy,"

in the way that Esther took a deep breath when Mordecai said, “perhaps, it is for such a time as this."

It is no small thing to be called and consecrated to the service of God.

From this moment forth, you are accountable to God in a new way;

you are accountable to the Gospel message and to the tradition and witness of the Church in a new way;

you are accountable to this community and to each of us here in a new way. 

And perhaps most importantly, you are accountable to a broken-hearted world in a new way after today.

It is no small thing that we and you do today.

We need to acknowledge the courage it takes to answer the call of God, especially at this time in the church’s history.

Frankly, Rob is beginning ordained ministry at a precarious time.

Trust in clergy and in the church is at its lowest point since pollsters started asking questions. According to the most authoritative studies, people living in the developed world, that’s people mainly in Europe and the US, have more trust in government institutions than they have in religious institutions. It's staggering to imagine that! It’s bewildering to me to imagine that in many places in this country people have deeper faith in what’s going on in Raleigh or Washington than they do in the work and goodwill of the church. But the reality is that those outside these walls actually believe that they know what’s going in Raleigh and Washington better than they know what’s going on within these walls. 

Even here in the Bible belt, most churches are smaller today than they were two decades ago and more financially at risk. And when the church gets leaner, sadly, it often gets meaner, too.

Meanwhile, in the popular media, Christians are regularly depicted as hateful and hypocritical. The next generation has been watching and is wondering,  "who needs the Church, I can be spiritual on my own!"

This is a precarious time to begin ordained life. 

Perhaps we should have read the passage in which Jesus says “I send you out like sheep to the slaughter” instead!

In some ways, we can argue that the Church has earned our precarious place.

The world has known too much cursing by Christians -- not cursing in the sense of “cussing" -- but cursing in the sense that the Church has spent far too much time proclaiming what it thinks God hates and not nearly enough time proclaiming what it knows God loves. We have been swift to curse and slow to bless. 

The loudest “Christian” voices have spent far too much time declaring the anger of God and not nearly enough time professing the passion and compassions of Christ. 

We have spent too much time calling people to meager morality and hardly any time inviting people into true discipleship. We have strained the gnat and swallowed the camel. 

This is a precarious time to answer God’s call to begin ordained life.

And yet, Rob, it is also the perfect time for you to begin this new part of your life.

The poet Galway Kinnell writes that “sometimes is necessary to reteach a thing its loveliness,” that sometimes it is necessary to remind someone of their God-given beauty in order for them to flourish again.

Rob, this will be your work. Across your lifetime in ministry, you must reteach the church its loveliness. You will have to remind us that the Church is the community of Christ’s compassion. And that we are all emissaries and ambassadors of that compassion in the world.

See, somewhere along the way, we took the wrong message from our afternoon Gospel. We came to believe that the point of the church was to name all the ways that the crowds of this world were like sheep without a shepherd, to identify all the ways that people were helpless, confused and harassed. We looked and saw all that was in the world that railed against the will and wonder of God. And we announced it. We thought that was the point. To announce all the ways that the world is not yet the Kingdom, which gave us a lot to say. We came to believe that the meaning of ministry was to proclaim judgment rather than mercy. 

I am well aware that it is usually the kiss of death for a sermon to say, “now the Greek here says…,” but the Greek here says that, when Jesus saw the world, when Jesus looked at the crowds, he splagchnizomai-ed on them. That’s the Greek word for “to have compassion.” It literally means to be churned in the guts. This is the depth and source of compassion — it’s from the bowels; it moves from within. Compassion is to be turned inside out for the other. Anything less is simply not compassion. This is the depth of God’s love in Christ. This is the love for the world that Jesus embodies. He splagchnizomai-ed on them. 

And, we as the church are called to be the community of splagchnizomai. Rob, your ministry will be to reteach the church the loveliness of its compassion. 

Rob, you must lead us. You must remind us. You must show us how to be who we are. You’ve had good teachers who have shown you what this compassion looks like. You’ve had congregations and communities, friends and family, mentors and ministers who have taught you this compassion. And now you must show it to the world. You must embody it so that we might embody it.

Because that compassion is the hope of the future. 

It is no small thing that we do today.

Amen.