3 Pentecost

June 18, 2023

Matthew 9.35-38

 + Last week I talked about my ordination and how the Gospel we heard today was the Gospel used for my ordination.

 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 love that scripture and have strived to live into it all of my life.

 But our reading from Matthew today, in addition to that phrase,  is full of some other important references.

 In it we also heard,

 “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

 It sounds kind of like eating out at restaurants right now.

 Or trying to use the check out at the grocery store.

 There’s lots of demand, but not a whole lot of workers.

 The problem here is that the Church should not be like a restaurant or a grocery store concerning who is able to do the ministry of the Church.

 The fact is, we are all called to ministry.

 We all should be doing ministry, right here, right now. 

 And each of us have our own ministries we’re called to.

 Certainly, in my case, I have been called to the ordained ministry—to the Priesthood.

 As I said last week on the 19^th anniversary of my ordination to the Priesthood, I love being a priest.

 I really do.

 But maybe it doesn’t hurt sometimes to ask why.

 Why am I called to be a priest?

 Why is Deacon John or Deacon Suzanne called to be deacons?

 Why are each of us called to do the particular ministries we do here at church?

 For me, and the answer to my own question, I think is answered in today’s Gospel. As well.

 We find Jesus feeling “compassion” for the people “because they were harassed and helpless like sheep without a shepherd.”

 I became a priest for people who are “harassed”  and “helpless, who need a shepherd.

 The reason I became a priest was so I could serve.

 I wanted to bless and consecrate.

 I wanted to celebrate Holy Eucharist and I wanted to baptize and bury and marry.

 I wanted to be a priest who truly loved and cared for the people I was called to serve.

 I wanted to be a priest a priest who practiced radical inclusion.

 And I also am somewhat skilled in administration.

 Which is why I am your Rector in addition to your priest.

 I know how Church—captial C—runs.

 And let me tell you, I also know how I sometimes doesn’t run as well.

 And I’m brutally honest about it all.

 Sometimes even when you don’t want to hear it.

 I know how to do a lot of those little jobs that no one else wants to do in the day-to-day functions of a parish.

 And there are lots of them!

 These are the things a priest—a Rector—does.

 And these are the things I think I was called to do.

 Am I successful at them?

 At times, yes.

 At others, I’m not so certain.

 There are people, after all,  who slip through the cracks.

 There are missed opportunities at helping and serving.

 And, more importantly, despite whatever compassion I might have for people, there are times when, yes, I have to admit I don’t always like some people.

 But the fact remains, I have been called to serve and that is exactly what I will do.

 One of the major things I learned after I was ordained was how people viewed me.

 No longer did people treat me the same way they did before.

 People put me up to a different standard than before I was ordained.

 I remember one time when someone took offense to the fact that I used a choice “four letter word.”

 Now it wasn’t the four letter word you might think it was—it was much more innocent than that.

 But people took exception not because Jamie used the word, but because Father Jamie used the word.

 I have learned very quickly that every word I say and every criticism I make is weighed very heavily by others.

 That also is a pitfall of ministry.

 This is why you hear me say this again and again: when it comes to people who volunteer and do ministry here at St. Stephen, please use a velvet glove with them.

 It is not the place for any one of us here to critique and criticize how others do ministry here.

 And none of our standards here are so high that we feel everyone else must do them to the same exact standard by THEIR standards

 I can tell you with all honesty: the main reason people stop doing ministry is the criticisms and the critiques they receive from other people trying to tell them how to do ministry.

 It has happened here at St. Stephen’s.

 And it has happened in other parishes I’ve served as well.

 I saw a great meme this week that said

 “STOP EXPECTING YOU FROM OTHER PEOPLE.”

 Trust me, not holding everyone else to your standards will make you so much happier, because no one will live up to our standard for ourselves.

 Not even ourselves.

 Velvet gloves are essential.

 Because, as we all know, the harvest is plentiful but the laborers are few.

 I think one of the best ways we see this illustrated here at St. Stephen’s is with our livestreaming.

 People want livestreaming.

 I get those emails and Facebook message requests from people, asking us about our livestreamed service.

 People join us by livestream.

 But there’s not many of us here who are called to actually do livestreaming.

 I certainly am not called to do it.

 But somehow it needs to be done.

 The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.

 We must remind ourselves again and again that we need to commend those laboring and not send them away, hurt by our scolding.

 Because when we do, I assure you:  they ain’t comin’ back again. . .

 I learned that ministry is not some ego trip.

 In fact, it can be very humbling.

 And, sometimes, it can be a burden.

 Partly it can be burden because, I’m not perfect.

 Nor is anyone.

 Certainly Jesus in our Gospel reading for this morning is not expecting perfection.

 He says,

 “…do not worry about how you are to speak or what you are to say; for what you are to say will be given to you at that time; for it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.” 

 We don’t have to be perfect.

 All we have to do is open our selves to God’s Spirit and let that Spirit speak through us.

 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.

 We don’t have to be perfect and we don’t all have to be priests and deacons.

 We are all ministers.

 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.

 So, let us not try to hide our imperfections.

 Instead, let us live out our ministry as we are.

 Let us strive 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.

 If nothing else, it just makes the world a little better place than it was before.

  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.