St. Paul's On-the-Hill Episcopal Church

The Rev. Stephen C. Holton, Rector

4 Pentecost; June 8, 2008

Genesis 12:1-9

Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

BEING A BLESSING TOGETHER

Were you there with Matthew; a person stuck in a job, a predatory job, a job that made mincemeat of all it came in contact with? Were you something like a mortgage lender in today's market, for that is what a tax collector was like – making all the money he could off of weak and innocent people.

Jesus called him. He answered. He heard a chance – in Jesus' voice – to get away from all he had done and all he would do if he stayed in that situation. He heard a chance, and left, for the unknown promise that Jesus offered; unknown – he did not know what would happen; but, a promise – for it was with Jesus, this man of love and compassion, whom he would learn was God.

Were you there with the leader of the synagogue, the leader of the congregation, the good and righteous and responsible man, who had already done all he could, all his life, for the good of the people of God and the furthering of God's message? Were you the polar opposite of the mortgage lender, the tax collector, the thief?

And yet for you too, there was the sense of not having quite what you needed from God, not having quite what you needed from life? Were you there with the congregational leader, unhappy, discontented, still in need because of your sick child?

Jesus calls you too.

Were you there with the woman with the issue of blood, who had bled 12 years without appropriate medical treatment? Nothing had worked. Presumably she had showed herself to the physicians, she had showed herself to the priests, she had done all she could and prayed all she could. Still nothing.

One last chance from the loving man who passed by in the crowd. One last chance from the prophetic man who passed by in the crowd. 'Perhaps if I grab the end of his garment.' 'Perhaps if I catch his eye.' 'Something will happen.'

One last chance to find the healing that she had not found inside the crowd, inside society, inside religion.

Perhaps you are with Abram – soon to be Abraham but still Abram, his old self, the self before he made the journey to Canaan, the self before he made the journey of faith, the self before he traveled with God, before he heard the voice of God when he was working in his shop in the ancient city of Ur.

Legend has it that Abram worked in an idol-maker's shop. So every day he would turn out another idol, working in the religious-industrial complex of the day, for everything turned on a country's relationship with its gods, and everything was based on the interactions with the gods in that society.

But something was not satisfying any more. Something was not working for Abram; or he would not have been listening with the ear of his heart, as Benedict once said in another context. He would not have been listening for some voice – if his mind was on his work. He would not have been day dreaming – if he was truly dedicated. He would not have been discontented – and he must have been discontented if his mind was available to God while his hands were trying to do his work.

“Go from your country and your father's house to the land that I will show you,” says the Lord, says the Voice while Abram was trying to get the job done, trying to get the order out the door for the temple down the street, trying to satisfy the well-paying client.

“Go.” “Go.” “Go.”

How many times had the Voice said “Go,” and Abram had brushed it aside while he did his work?

How many times had Matthew looked up from his brutal tax collection booth hoping to be called away, trapped in a predatory lending job, even enjoying it at the worst of times?

How many times had the congregational leader looked at his dying daughter and given up hope even as he spoke of hope to his comrades?
How many times had the woman with the medical condition given up hope that this condition would ever be over? And yet still she looked for hope. And yet still Matthew looked up. And yet still the congregational leader looked for help.

And yet still Abram – Abram not yet Abraham – let his mind wander as his hands finished their work.

God calls. Abram answers.

Abram answers. He puts down his work. 'I've had enough,' he answers, to himself. He takes off his workman's apron and lays it aside. He says goodbye to his father, his mother, his neighbors, his land, everyone he grew up with, everything he ever did and all the places in which he did it – and he leaves.

He leaves for a promise, a dream. He leaves the society he has always known that never quite satisfies.

He leaves, and goes to a new land, a new promise.

The land and the new promise are not like the old land and the old promise, the old job, the old kindred, the old system. It is not a new system where, if you work hard enough you will get paid more and appreciated more.

The woman's life will not necessarily be a wonderful life. Matthew's life will not necessarily be a better life where more people love him. The congregational leader's life will not necessarily be a life without pain.

But all their lives will be lives with God, since they have turned to God.

All their lives will be lives like God, since they have turned to God. All their lives will be lives of blessing, since God blesses, and he has given them – and us – his power.

When we have turned ourselves over to God, we do not get better lives. We get different lives.

We do not get paid more. We may not get paid at all.

We do not get thanked more. We may not get thanked at all.

We do not get loved more. We may not get loved at all.

We get more of the ability to love, more of the ability to thank, more of the ability to give without payment, more of the ability to love without reward.

We get more of the ability to bless, and transform other people's lives, as Jesus blessed, as Jesus transformed other people's lives – when we walk with Jesus, when we follow him.

We leave our father's house, as Abram did, and all his kindred, and all his customs. We get a different kind of father. We become a different kind of child.

We get the ability to bless, not just the chance of being blessed.

Matthew, the synagogue leader, the woman – become like Jesus when they become his disciples. They are not just blessed by him. They become blessers like him. That is his gift to them.

That is his gift to us. We become his cohorts, his partners.

So Abram leaves his kindred and his father's house. But he is not yet Abraham. He is not yet a blessing to all those around him.

He has many mistakes to make, many opportunities not to trust God as he should, many times when God rescues him in the nick of time or after the nick of time, and shows him that he should have trusted all along; until it becomes second nature.

It takes a long time to become a blessing. It takes a long time to grow into our new name – to grow from Abram to Abraham – but God has time. God takes his time. He'll get you there.

And eventually Abraham becomes the father of many nations. And we are blessed in him. And we ourselves have the chance to become a blessing to those around us; not just blessed, but a blessing.

We are not promised that we will be rulers. We are promised that we will be a blessing.

We are not promised that we will be protected. We are promised that we will be a blessing.

We are not promised that we will not get sick, that we will not get victimized. We are promised that we will be a blessing – even to those who victimize us, as Jesus was.

That is what it means to be a blessing.

Not to be pigeon-holed by some system larger than yourself, that cares nothing for who you are but only for what you can do and what you can deliver no matter how much you suffer.

We are offered the chance, to bless those around us, and not just hope for their blessing upon us.

We are offered the chance – as our minds wander from a soulless job or a soulless way of doing it, that only occupies our hands or half our minds – to follow Christ, to follow God who was present in him, to follow the Voice that whispers to us: 'try something else,' 'try someone else.' It will involve sacrifice. But it will also involve love. You will make the world a better place, a more Godly place, a more blessed place – maybe not richer for you; maybe not safer for you; you may not be better protected, or better than all the people around you. But they will be better – because you were there. They may be safer – because you were there. They may be healthier – because you were there; and because God was there, with you.