Preached at St. Martin’s in-the-Field, Severna Park
Ocober 6, 2024: St. Francis Sunday–and First Sunday as Rector!
Good morning, St. Martin’s!
We made it!!! You made it! I made it! Dan made it! We all made it!
I am so, so glad to be here. And I am so, so glad that you are here, too.
And I’m glad we are celebrating the feast of St. Francis today!
Francis, who absolutely delighted in God and all that God has made.
Francis, whose love of God spurred him on to serve others with the kind of selfless abandon that both inspires us and maybe makes us a little uncomfortable, too.
We tend to romanticize Francis a bit with all of the images of him talking to birds or singing to wolves or dancing in the sunshine. That is the side of Francis we would most like to spend some time with.
But there is this other side of Francis we tend to gloss over, and that is his sacrificial selfless service of the most marginalized. His choice to live a life of poverty for the sake of others.
It is a lot easier for us to identify with Francis while cuddling on the couch with our very good dogs, or whatever it is that cats do… It’s a lot easier to identify with Francis when marveling at the beauty of creation while on the water or on a hike than it is to give all we have to the poor.
That is why we have these seemingly ominous scripture readings on the feast of St. Francis. Readings where Ananias, his wife Sapphira, and the rich man of the parable all die from greed. Nothing warm and fuzzy about that.
And yet, I think it’s true. The way of greed is the way of death. A greedy life is a lonely life. It is a life of fear and scarcity, which sounds a lot like the absence of God.
But do you know what the antidote to that greed, loneliness and fear is?
In my experience, the antidote is exactly the kind of thing we envision Francis doing—spending time in nature, marveling at creation, serving others, and singing praise to God.
Because friends, it’s normal to be greedy. All of us have moments or seasons where we are scared that we don’t have enough. Not enough money, not enough time, not enough control… have you felt that before? I know I have.
And when we are in that space of not-enough, we cling desperately to what we do have. We cling so tightly that we can’t open ourselves up to one another and we can’t open ourselves up to the very presence of God.
When I get in that space, it helps me to get outside in nature and get outside myself. It helps me to “lift my eyes to the hills” and see all the beauty that springs forth every day with no help from me.
It helps me to feel the breeze that I cannot control and watch how the birds of the air just soar effortlessly, letting that same breeze carry them higher and higher. It helps me to close my eyes to better listen to the sound of water lapping or crashing or gurgling or rushing or dripping.
And it helps me to open my eyes to the very real needs and possibilities of the people around me.
It’s like our reading from Job today, where God reminds us just how much life takes place in the wild without any help from or even noticing from us.
God asks, “Do you know when the mountain goats give birth?” Well, no.
“Do you observe the calving of the deer?” Again, no.
So much life… really, all of life springs up without our help, without our knowledge. And for what purpose? Because it brings God joy. Yes, God delights in God’s creation. God knows when the mountain goats give birth, and God celebrates it! God observes the calving of the deer, and God rejoices in it!
And you know what else God delights in? YOU. God delights in you.
And not when you ace your test, or get that promotion, or finally have an Instagram-worthy pantry… no, God delights in you when you are the fullest expression of who God created you to be.
God delights in you when you are messy, God delights in you when you ask for help, and God delights in you when you celebrate who you are and who your neighbor is.
St. Martin’s–you are delightful!
I think we delight God even more when we delight in one another. Celebrating each other and this community we are called to be is in and of itself an act of worship because we are acknowledging God’s creativity, God’s greatness, God’s sense of humor, and God’s immense unconditional love.
This is my prayer for you and for me and for us as we begin this chapter of life together—that you would know that God delights in you, and I do, too. On days when we are knocking it out of the park, and on days when we are just doing our best to tread water—God delights in you, and I do too.
And if we live into that truth, we will find ourselves delighting in one another all the more. We will find it easier to sacrifice for one another and live generously rather than coming from a place of scarcity and fear.
We will find it easier to do what the words of our hymn just encouraged us to do—to be instruments of peace. We will seek to understand rather than to be understood. We will focus on what we can offer one another—love, forgiveness, faith, hope, light, joy—knowing from our experience in this community of faith that it is in giving that we receive. And that it is a delight to give! My friends, that is indeed how we delight in God in one another.
St. Martin’s, God delights in you. Let us delight in one another! Amen.
lauren laughs 