The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost
August 4, 2024
Exodus 16:2-4,9-15

The audio of this sermon is available as a podcast. The full video of the worship service is available on Trinity Church’s YouTube channel.

This past week, I had the great joy of leading a week of camp at Camp Allen, our diocesan camp in Navasota. Yes, I spent a week of my summer with sixty-eight ten and eleven year olds, voluntarily.

Anyway, for a week those kids play and swim and ride horses and fish; they learn about Jesus and worship God; they eat spaghetti without utensils, it’s disgusting to watch; they eat so much candy that I know every dentist from here to Navasota will be gainfully employed for years to come. Those kids, for a week, want for nothing.

And yet, those sixty-eight ten and eleven year olds, well, they complain. It’s too hot, I don’t like this food, it’s too sandy, I don’t want to put my shoes on. My cabin is too cold, it’s too smelly, there are too many bugs. I mean, these kids are having the time of their lives in a safe, loving, Christian environment and yet, they can still find something to complain about.

And yet, they still find something to complain about. The Israelites had been slaves in the land of Egypt for hundreds of years. They had been hard pressed by their taskmasters, they had been mistreated and targeted by Pharaoh. In their time of need, they cried out to God for deliverance and God delivered them through the hand of Moses. The Israelites are led by the Spirit of the Living God through the waters of the Red Sea, led into the wilderness, led into the land of freedom. They are no longer slaves but free. 

And yet, they still find something to complain about. The story from Exodus says, “The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. The Israelites said to them, ‘If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger’” (Exodus 16:2-3). For a brief moment, they would rather have died under oppression in Egypt than as free people in the wilderness. They complain to Moses and Aaron about what God has done to them, even though it is a good thing.

This last week especially, I have been thinking about the nature of leadership, of faithfulness, of leading God’s people, and of listening to God’s call. The Episcopal Diocese of West Missouri has named me as one of four candidates in their election for a new bishop that will take place this November. If not elected, I would remain the twelfth rector of Trinity Church. If elected, I would become the ninth bishop of West Missouri. And yes, I am honored by it. I am awed that members of the clergy and laity in that diocese have seen something in me that they are looking for in their next bishop. With God’s help, I will be faithful through this process; though I do not know what the call will be. 

And yet; this sermon is not about me, about my vocation, or about a bishop election. No, it is about all of us, as children of God, and what it is that God is calling us to do. Whether we are clergy or not, the Holy Spirit is working in us, calling us to service and labor in the great harvest for God. Though, like the Israelites, that call is rarely easy. And when you say yes to God’s call, there will always be part of you that wished you had not. In a way, it would have been easier for the Israelites to stay and eat their fill in the fleshpots of Egypt. But that’s not what God was calling them to do. In a way, it’s often easier just to complain about the things that are wrong instead of working to make things right. But the Lord we follow, put his life where his words were. There is always a risk in following God’s call. And yet, that is precisely the point. As Christians, as followers of Jesus, each of us has a call from God upon our lives. And that call comes with a cost.

Think back to those great heroes of our faith. The Virgin Mary accepts God’s call upon her life, though that means she must watch her son die upon a cross. And yet, her faithfulness was a vessel of God’s grace for all of us. Saint Paul hears God’s call to preach the gospel, and in the end, he is dragged off as a prisoner of the Roman Empire. And yet, through him the good news of Jesus Christ spread all across the ancient world. There are modern saints, too. This week the Episcopal Church celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of the ordination of women to the priesthood. For many of those women, that call came at a great emotional and spiritual cost, and yet, we must thank God they had the courage and the tenacity to follow Jesus; for our church, and this church, and indeed my life, has been enriched and strengthened by clergywomen. I thank God for those heroes who were willing “to seek the truth; come whence it may, cost what it will.”

And yet. For those who answer the call, though the cost is great, God will provide. Sure, the Israelites complain and cry out, and yet, God gives them manna from heaven. Because God has called them to new life, to be a light to the nations. Just as God provided the Virgin Mary with the grace to accept her call. Just as God provided Paul with the heart to preach the gospel. Just as God provided those newly ordained women, and our church, with the courage to rejoice in their vocation. God will provide whatever is necessary for you as discern what it is that God has in mind for you. Just as, I’m certain, that God will provide whatever is needed for all of us in the days to come.

Just as Jesus himself is that provision. After feeding the five thousand in another wilderness, with just five loaves of bread and two fish, the people follow Jesus. Jesus tells them that there is true bread, from heaven, that gives life to the world. And the people, they want more of whatever is that he’s got. “They said to him, “‘Sir, give us this bread always’” (John 6:34).

“Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty’” (John 6:35). This is the divine promise. When we follow, when we commit ourselves to this way, God will provide. This is not a promise that the call will be easy. This is not a promise that the call will be for your benefit. But it is a promise that the Lord God will sustain you with bread that is his own life and flesh. 

And that is the final thing I wish to say. I know that all this news comes at a cost for me, for you, and for this church. And yet, I pray, and I trust, and I know, that the life of this parish is not about me or about any priest or bishop. It is about the Lord God, revealed to us in Jesus, alive in our hearts as the Holy Spirit. The life of this church is about empowering each of us to know our calling, our purpose, and giving us the courage to live it out. Even when, especially when, that comes with a cost.

So I say to you, it is not I or any priest or bishop who gives you the bread from heaven, but it is our Father who gives us the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world and to you.