June 11, 2023: May God’s words be spoken, may God’s words be heard.  Amen.

Welcome everyone to our annual Mass on the Grass…with Brass! service.  Thankfully the air quality we had earlier in the week from the Canadian wildfires has improved dramatically, and we are able to worship here in this beautiful space, and later enjoy a picnic with all the goodies you’all brought.  We continue to pray for all those nearer to the fires, and to the first responders trying to contain them.

On this Sunday, when we step out of what we know – our beautiful church nave – to be here, it is appropriate that we hear the stories in our scriptures from Genesis and the Gospel of Matthew.  Because in each of these, people are being called out from what is familiar, and into the unknown.

In the Genesis narrative, Abram and Sarai are commanded by God to leave Haran, where Abram’s father had settled the family years ago.  They were to go to a foreign land, and God would bless them abundantly.  Now, how many of you have moved from one place to another?  Even when you may be excited about where you are going, or the reason you are leaving, there is a bit of trepidation – about all the stuff you have accumulated and now have to sort through or cram into boxes, of course – but also about going into the unfamiliar.  And, perhaps just as importantly – going where others do not know you.

And then there is Matthew, in…well, the Gospel of Matthew.  He is sitting in the tax booth when Jesus walks by and says “Follow me.” While the text doesn’t say it, tax collectors in those days were not the beleaguered public servants of our day.  They were ones who collected the taxes due to the emperor– and then some.  So, as you can imagine, they aren’t particularly well liked in the community.  Many, perhaps most, extorted far more tax from people than needed in order to line their own pockets.  Was Matthew one of those crooked types?  The text doesn’t say. 

Yet when Jesus invites him, he leaves that booth and becomes a disciple.  Apparently, so did a few other tax collectors, as the text tells us.  What must that have been like for them?  They would lose all their income.  They did not really know what lay ahead (for that matter, neither did the ones who had been with Jesus from the start).  Yet like Peter, James, John, and Andrew, Matthew dropped what he was doing and followed Jesus.  Something called to his deepest heart – it’s the only thing really that could move a person to give up the familiar, and step forward into the unknown. 

Jesus calls his followers out of their normal environments and invites them into a new life.  He did it with Matthew, and also with all the others.  The fisherman dropped their nets, others left their homes and families, Matthew left his lucrative tax business.

God called Abram & Sarai out of the place they called home, promising them blessings beyond measure. 

We have come here out of our normal place of worship, and perhaps this too will be a life transforming act.  Perhaps it is a reminder, amidst all the financial stresses we face as a parish, that following Jesus is about what we do here, at this table, with one another, and what we do to serve him in the world – healing and loving those he would see – the outcasts, the stranger, the forgotten, the lost.  Following Jesus is not about stones, wood, roof leaks, and furnaces.

Maybe that is why when Christ calls us, it is usually a call to go where we have not yet been – to leave what is familiar.  Why is that?

You know, years ago, back in 2014, when I first came to this parish, I remember asking about a little area off of the room where I get vested before the service.  It was stuffed with all sorts of things, including some flip charts that were perilously close to the very hot radiator.  I could see that it had once been a bathroom.  I asked someone about it, and they said that the bathroom doesn’t work, so it was turned into a place to store stuff (hmmm…I wonder if that’s where that Florida man got the idea to put all those boxes in the shower?). 

Well, being new and figuring “what the heck?” I asked our Sexton, Don, about it.  He said “I can get that working for you.” Within a week we had a working bathroom, albeit with a bulb that still hangs from the ceiling by a wire as a light fixture.  He even installed a new medicine cabinet, and cleaned it. 

The point in all this was that I was too new to know any better, and so I was able to see things differently because they were not familiar.

This has likely happened to you too.  Have you ever driven home and realized you didn’t remember any of the turns along the way?  It wasn’t that you were asleep – or so I hope – it’s just that the drive is so familiar, so ingrained in your psyche, you don’t even think about it anymore. 

But, when we come to someplace new, we bring fresh eyes – everything is something to be discovered, to be seen, to be heard.  Our senses are more awake because the sights, smells, sounds, and even sometimes the tastes, are different.  And while that can be disconcerting sometimes, it also gives us a fresh start.  And those blank slates can allow us to be transformed in ways we had not even begun to consider.

Not only that. But others see us differently too.  It is commonly understood in business and academic circles that to get to the next level, you need to go to a different company or institution because the people where you are now will not see you in that new way.

This is why when someone becomes a postulant for Holy Orders, they must leave their home parish.  They need to go where they will be stretched, and where others will no longer see them as the lay leader they likely were, but as the clergy they feel called to be.

And that’s the thing about how God works – with Matthew, Abram, Sarai, and us.  God is always trying to invite us into the next thing.  The next part of our life of faith.  And we can’t do that – we can’t get to where Christ is leading us – unless we are willing to let go of where we are, and follow him. 

This is true for us individually, and also as a community of faith. We entered unfamiliar territory when I first arrived here.  I was new to you and this parish.  Those of you who were there at that time were mostly new to me (though I had known a few of you).  And yet, we grew to know and love one another through the years as our church grew and thrived.

Then together we entered a new foreign land – the COVID pandemic.  Separated by physical distance, but united in prayer and love, we followed Christ through the tumult.  We emerged from it with heavy hearts having lost people we loved, along with most of our parish financial stability. 

And now, we are walking into this post-pandemic fragility in which we find ourselves today, continuing to listen for where Jesus is calling us now. 

You know, there are many who say the church universal is dead.  Well, the death of the church has been predicted for centuries.  They tried to kill Jesus, and that didn’t work.  The church – the body of Christ – will not die.  It will, however, change.

What will that look like for us, and for all the people we serve in his name?  What will this new country, this strange post-pandemic world, be like for us?

Well, I don’t have a crystal ball, so I cannot say for sure, but one thing I do know, is that where ever we follow Jesus, we will not only be okay – we will, by his grace and love – thrive and be transformed in ways we never imagined.

Take just the example of Matthew.  If we continue in the story, we find that Jesus invited a number of other tax collectors and so-called “sinners” to his party of fellowship.  How do you think that felt to those folks – to be welcomed, loved, included – not in spite of who they are – but because they are God’s beloved children.

And when the powerful saw that this body of Christ, these followers of Jesus, were an inclusive mix of people from all walks of life, the powerful questioned Jesus on why he dares to dine with sinners. 

Now, I love this little bit of Jesus’ smackdown of those who didn’t like his crowd.  He said ““Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means…”. Hmmm….  Do ya think, just maybe, he wasn’t talking about the people with him as the sick ones? 

And you know what?  If Jesus didn’t eat with sinners, he’d be eating alone! And…so would all of us.

God didn’t create perfect people, but God become incarnate to dwell among us that we might know, really know, that perfection isn’t what God desires of us. 

If folks are looking for perfect people, they better look elsewhere, because they sure won’t find it in a church.  And the truth is – they won’t find it anywhere else either. 

We aren’t meant to be perfect – we are meant to be like Jesus.

Not just being inclusive.

Not just being welcoming.

But intentionally inviting into the feast – this feast – everyone – EV-ERY-ONE – but most especially those others push aside: the immigrant, people of color, LGBTQ+ people, women, the physically or emotionally challenged, the spiritually hungry, the addicted, and more.

This is the life Jesus invites us to when we follow him.

This is the journey God pushes us out into the world to take on.

And one thing is for certain – like Abram & Sarai things won’t always go as planned, or be smooth sailing, or everything we dreamed it might be.  Yet we will be blessed beyond our wildest dreams.

And like Matthew, we may not be living a life of riches, but we will be rich beyond measure.

So, let us leave behind what we know, let go of what was, and step forward to what may be.  It will change everything for us, for our parish, for this community, and for the world.

Amen.

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