2 Pentecost

June 14, 2020

Exodus 19.2-8a; Matthew 9.35-38

+ Well, I don’t need to tell anyone what a very special day today is.

This afternoon, when John Anderson is ordained a deacon at All Saints Church in Valley City, St. Stephen’s will have its first vocational deacon (hopefully not its last).

I am going to say to John what was said to me at my ordination to the Diaconate 17 years ago next month.

Today is not about John. It really isn’t

It is not even about St. Stephen’s.

It about the Church—about all of us.

John is being ordained not for St. Stephen’s, but for all of us—for the whole Church.

And what we celebrate today is that ministry.

But, we also get to celebrate John too today.

And we also get to celebrate what this ordination means to us here at St. Stephen’s.

As I mention in the notice I wrote for today’s bulletin (which I posted on Facebook and our blog this morning), John first asked me about being a Deacon way back in 2014.

I remember that evening at Mezzaluna and that conversation we had that night well.

John, after years of ministry in the United Methodist Church, truly felt that God was calling him toward this change in ministry.

I don’t think we knew on that night in 2014 that the road ahead would be a long, circuitous, often frustrating one.

Actually, I think we find of knew it wouldn’t be easy.

Certainly there have been great joys and very deep disappointments as he sought to heed his calling.

And, if he hadn’t seen the ugly side of Church politics before that, he certainly did during his process as well as blatant discrimination.

But, as I reminded him and all of you many times over those years, our path in following Jesus is so often filled with great joys and deep disappointments.

But, we’re not going to talk about the disappointments today.

And today is one of those days of great joy.  

After today, there will be some noticeable changes.

John will now be vested as a deacon, wearing a stole and, at times, a dalmatic, at our liturgies.

He will now be wearing a clerical collar.

He will be proclaiming the Gospel at mass.

He will be assisting at the altar.

We will be referring to him from now on as “Deacon John.”

But outside those visible changes, all remains as it has been.

The fact of that matter is that John has already been serving faithfully in a diaconal ministry for several years., as we all know and have seen.

We at St. Stephen’s are not only blessed today, we are very grateful as well.

We have longed for diaconal ministry for many years.

He have been in need of a deacon for at least 10 years.

It is especially appropriate that our congregation, named after the first deacon of the Church, finally has a deacon to serve our growing and expanding  needs.

It’s also appropriate on this wonderful day that we get this reading from the Gospel.

This was the same Gospel that was read at my ordination to the Priesthood 16 years ago last Thursday.

Now, I didn’t pick to for this morning.

But the words of that Gospel, which we just heard, were words that have been very prophetic in my own life as an ordained minister.

In that Gospel reading, we hear Jesus say, “I am sending you as sheep into the midst of wolves; so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.”

Well, John.

I don’t think I need to tell you this this morning, but, as you very well know after all your years of ministry, that’s often what it feels like being a minister of God, whether as an ordained person or not.

Actually, that’s what it’s like just to be a Christian at times.

Most of us, in whatever ministries we might be doing in our lives, know this to be very true.

We’ve all been there, in the midst of those wolves.

We have known those wolves very well.

And yes, some of them really are wolves in sheep’s clothing, let me tell you!

I could name a few…

I won’t.

But I could.

It’s important in all the ministries we do to be as wise as a serpents and innocent as a doves.

Well, I don’t know how “innocent” I personally have been.

Or, for that matter,  “wise” either.

But I’ve tried really hard to be both wise and innocent, as a priest, as a deacon, as a follower of Jesus, a lover of God and a lover of others.

And I know John has too.

And I know that we all, who are doing ministry together here at St. Stephen’s are striving for that as well.

There is something so profoundly true in this Gospel reading for today.

Of course, there’s a lot here.

But, it’s all good.

And it is a message to all of us.

All of us who are called to ministry.

All of us who serve.

All of us who strive to follow Jesus and love God and love one another.

For those of who do those things, who follow Jesus, who love God and one another, in any way in our lives, we are, as we heard in our reading form Exodus today, “a priestly kingdom and a holy nation.”

Doing any one of these things—following Jesus, loving God, loving others—is not easy.

Because doing these things isn’t some insular thing we do.

It isn’t just about “me and Jesus,” so to speak.

It’s about all of us.

Together.

It is not easy being wise as serpents and innocent as doves.

Ministry is hard.

Following Jesus is hard.

Loving God is hard.

Loving one another—let me tell you, that’s very hard sometimes.

Being a laborer when the harvest plentiful and the laborers are few is hard.

All of us who do it know that we all have to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves at times in our lives and in the work we do.

Each of us has been called, by our very baptism, to be those laborers of the harvest.  

We have been called to serve.

We have been called to shed our egos to a large extent.

And that might be the hardest thing of all.

I know that it is for me.

Ministry is certainly not some ego trip.

If one goes into ordained ministry for an ego trip, let me tell you, there will be a rude awakening.

I hate to break this news to you, John, but it’s not always going to blue skies and flowers every day after today.

Because, ministry, any kind of ministry, is not about any one of us as an individual.

It is not about us as individuals.

It is not about the cult of personality.

When we make it such, it is doomed to fail

Trust me.

I have seen it.

Ministry is, in fact, humbling.

Or, sometimes, downright humiliating.

And, sometimes, it can be a burden.

Partly it can be burden because, none of us, not one of us, is perfect.

And realizing our limitations can be sobering.

It can be frightening.

And it can be humbling.

Of course, we must remember that no one is expecting any of us to be perfect.

But the message I think we all—ordained or not—can take away from this is that God uses our imperfections.

God uses us as we are.

God loves us for who are.

And this is our model in turn.

We must love each other, as we are, for who we are.

And when we realize that we don’t have to be perfect, that we don’t all have to ordained priests or deacons to do what God calls us to do, it can be a relief.

Because, the fact is, imperfect as we are, we are all a priestly kingdom

God calls each of us in our own ways—in our own fractured ways—to serve as we need to serve—to do as much good as we can here and now.

That is all we can do sometimes.

We must strive hard just to do good, even in some small way, every day, in whatever way we can.

In so many ways, our lives and ministries are very much like those Israelites, who we encounter today in our reading from Exodus wandering about in the desert.

It does feel like that on occasion.

That we are wandering about in the desert.

That we are uncertain of what we are doing or where we are going.

But, once we start trusting, once we stop relying only ourselves and our egos, once we stop trying to be perfect all the time, and just trust God, and love others, and just follow Jesus where he is going, we do find our way.

So, let us not try to hide our imperfections.

Instead, let us live out our ministry as we are, striving to have compassion on the harassed and the helpless, on those who are sick and those who might not even know they’re sick, on the marginalized and on those who have little or no voice.

Even if we fail, making the effort helps us to live out our ministry and, if nothing else, it just makes the world a little better place than it was before.

Let us truly be a priestly nation, loving God, loving each other.

And in all that may come upon—good or bad—let us be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.

By doing so, we live in integrity.

By doing so, we will make a difference in this world, even in some small way.

By doing so, we will bringing the Kingdom of God even closer.

“The Kingdom of God is near,” we hear Jesus say to us today in our Gospel reading.

It is near because we are working and striving to make it near.

We are making it present when we do what we do in love.

Let us pray.

Lord of the Harvest, send us out. Help as we bring your Kingdom nearer. Let us strive, in our love of you and of one another, to do the work you have called us to do. There is much work to do. Let us do what we must do. We ask this in the holy Name of Jesus. Amen.