Fifth Sunday after Pentecost [Proper 13], rcl yr a, 2026
JEREMIAH 28:5-9; PSALM 89:1-4, 15-18; ROMANS 6:12-23; MATTHEW 10:40-42
we are nourished by the riches of God’s grace
When I was a seminarian a couple of decades ago, I did three placements—three different opportunities in three different parishes to learn how to put into practice what I was learning in class.
The third placement, at St. Stephen’s Belvedere, went very well. The second placement, at Church of the Advent in San Francisco was a gentle recovery, a gentle recovery from the very difficult first placement, a placement that didn’t go very well at all at a parish that shall remain nameless.
Admittedly, the difficulty of the first placement was partly on me. I was green; I made mistakes with great confidence. It was so challenging and demoralizing for me that I was very, very close to losing my vocation to the priesthood, which was a bit wobbly to begin with.
And so: the second placement was a bit of recovery, where I could find solace in the liturgy; the demands on me weren’t high, and it was more a place of rest than it was of active ministry.
The third one—St. Stephen’s—went very well: I had a strong mentor, who taught me many good things; I served in three liturgies a Sunday. It was refreshing, hard, good work. Near the end of my time there, I had an opportunity to say what that parish, St. Stephen’s, meant to me, and what I said to them was “thank you for receiving my ministry.”
The rector of St. Stephen’s, in his particular style, told me immediately, “They don’t know what you mean when you say that!” What I meant was simple, though; I wanted to use a term that has its origins in the readings from Matthew we’ve had for the past few Sundays. In Matthew 10, Jesus sends out his followers to do ministry, a ministry of healing and the telling of the Good News, that “The kingdom of heaven has come near.” It was a ministry of giving—the disciples had already received from Jesus
Jesus’s own healing ministry, they’d heard Jesus proclaim the Good News, and now it was time for them to give what they had received. The ministry that Jesus had offered, the ministry that was received already by Jesus’s followers, was offered again by Jesus’s followers and received again by the people that were visited by those followers.
What those followers offered wasn’t always received though: the way Jesus puts it, “If the house [you visit] is worthy, let your peace come upon it, but if it is not worthy, let your peace return to you. If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake off the dust from your feet as you leave that house or town.”
And today we hear something similar, but with a very subtle addition to this dynamic of offering and receiving. Jesus says, “whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.” To give, even something as small as a cup of water as a disciple of Jesus, is to receive something too—when you give, you receive.
You may have heard people say this—“when I give to others I receive more than I give.”And while I want to say that this is often true (though Jesus does want to say that sometimes what you hope to give is not received, and that’s part of the Christian life), I hope you can see that there is far more to this than some sort of exchange. Again, it speaks to something I’ve been preaching about lately— that there is something fundamentally human about this dynamic of giving and receiving. There’s something about giving and receiving that makes us whole, because in giving and receiving we embrace the way we are made by God in God’s own image, a Triune God whose inner life is marked by three persons eternally giving and receiving. And in giving and receiving, we participate in the divine life, given to us in our creation.
I am tempted to say, about that unnamed first parish where things went rather badly, that it was just like this: I offered something that wasn’t received—and may they be cursed, and that I was right to shake the dust off my feet and go away! To be honest though that would be unfair and untrue. I was also stubborn; I was also offering things that they didn’t really need or desire; so part of that lack of reception was about me.
I still though think back to those two churches especially—the unnamed parish, and St. Stephen’s. The more difficult placement was in a church that was high in anxiety, and micromanagement, and lack of trust—and that does make things much more difficult. And St. Stephen’s, where it went well, was also a place of kindness, generosity, and trust. And what I would say is that anxiety, micromanagement, and lack of trust sure disrupted that dynamic of giving and receiving. And that in a church community that was marked by kindness, generosity, and trust that dynamic of giving and receiving was something that happened very naturally.
(And I needed some of that kindness and generosity—because of a mistake I made, the choir didn’t get communion on Christmas Eve! And to be honest, it was the truth in kindness that means it’s not a mistake I will likely ever make again … )
So what am I trying to say? It seems to me that it should be no surprise that we would find connections between this ministry of giving and receiving— seen in the community of Jesus as it’s described in the Gospel—and the health of a community. In this Gospel the ministry of giving and receiving is a ministry of healing after all—healing and the sharing the Good News that “The kingdom of heaven has come near.” A healthy community is one that receives what is offered in the spirit of healing generosity, a healthy community is one that is not anxious, but confident in the proclamation that “The kingdom of heaven has come near.” A healthy community receives good things from God and others; and a healthy community also knows how to give good things for God’s sake and for the sake of others.
God is good; God is generous; God is gracious. And we respond, receiving such good things from God in Christ, and in a Spirit of generosity, kindness, and trust we give back—to the church and to the world—in order that what we have received is given again.
And not only for the sake of others—because as we receive, and as we give, we lean into the divine life: a life marked by healthy thriving, generosity, kindness, and trust: that is, a grace we can share.
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.
As our parish musician, he provides both support and leadership so that a variety of parish programs can find musical expression and attract participation. When our handbell choir is in season, he is one of our ringers. At parish dinners, he provides popular piano music for the guests to dine by. For both worship services and concerts, he will rehearse and accompany vocal and instrumental soloists from our congregation on piano, organ, or even accordion.
Angus Sinclair was appointed Director of Music of St. John the Evangelist on February 1, 2023. Having graduated in 1981 (Honours B.Mus.) in organ performance from Wilfrid Laurier University, he went on to distinguish himself as a church musician, recitalist and accompanist touring in both Canada and the UK. For over 40 years Angus has served parishes and congregations throughout Southwestern Ontario as director of music. He experiences his present appointment to St. John’s as a welcome homecoming, both spiritually and musically.