Sunday, June 11, 2023

2 Pentecost


 June 11, 2023

 Matthew 9.9-13,18-16

+ Today is an important day for me.

 19 years ago today—actually this evening—I was ordained to the Priesthood.

 I am very grateful for these 19 years.

 And as most of you know, I truly love being a Priest.

 It is one of the most fulfilling aspects of my life.

 Sometimes, you just know you were meant to do a certain thing in life.

 And for me, this is it.

 Still, 19 years seems to me now like a long time.

 It is a long time.

 And next month, I will celebrate the 20th anniversary of my ordination as a deacon.

 A lot happens in almost two decades.

 A lot of joys.

 A whole lot of sadness.

 Some major disappointments.

 And some amazing accomplishments.

 The Gospel reading for my ordination was the reading for the feast day which falls on June 11th, the feast of St. Barnabas.

 Those words 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.”

 I should have those words inscribed on my gravestone!!

 Because that is exactly what it’s like to be a Priest or a deacon or a minister, as you all are.

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

 At least, I hope we are all striving to be this kind of Christian in our lives.

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

 We’ve 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.

 And if I have had any gift granted to me by God to survive all these years of ordained ministry, I can say that, for me anyway, it has definitely been to be as wise as a serpent and innocent as a dove.

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

 Or, for that matter, “wise” either.

 Well, I’m kind of wise.

 Remember all those times over the last seven years or so when situations in our country seemed particularly dark.

 Remember what I said again and again?

 The chickens always come home to roost.

 Well. . .

 Welcome home, chickens. . .

 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.

 Our Gospel reading for today is very appropriate to this discussion.

 In it, we find Jesus calling the apostle Matthew, saying to him, “Follow me.”

 That is a message to all of us, too.

 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 one another.

 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.

 And doing all of this means that, occasionally, we must stand up and speak out.

 And that’s definitely not easy.

 It’s not easy taking a step out there and standing up for what we know is right.

 It is not easy to stand up and speak out.

 It is not easy to be 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.

 All of us who do it—and that is everyone here today—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 follow Jesus.  

 We were 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.

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

 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 a 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.

 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.

 But, once we start doing so, 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, 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 disciples of Jesus, like Matthew, like Barnabas, 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 be bringing the Kingdom of God even closer.

 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.

  

 

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