The Church is Called to Die

Homily, The Church is Called to Die
Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 17A, 2023
Good Shepherd Episcopal Church
Tequesta, FL

The Rev. Derek M Larson, TSSF

Today’s Lectionary Readings:

Exodus 3:1-15
Psalm 105:1-6, 23-26, 45c
Romans 12:9-21
Matthew 16:21-28

In the name of God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen. 

Its classic, gothic architecture stood proudly over East Grand Boulevard in Detroit, Michigan, its steeple and turret stretching to the sky. In its heyday it had 1,500 communicants from the flourishing, middle class community surrounding it. If you had passed by on a Sunday morning you would hear the music of the organ and choir drawing you in with its beauty.

But by the early 2,000s Church of the Messiah had less than 40 members and carried the weight of an expensive building. The neighborhood had dramatically changed, with 36% of it’s population experiencing poverty. The Church had an impressive list of ministries to serve the needs of those in their community, but their own struggle kept the threat of closing their doors front and center, and their communal worship simply seemed irrelevant to the neighborhood around them. It’s a story incredibly common throughout the United States, particularly in the Episcopal Church. 

This week and last I’m talking about the national trends of Church decline and the future of the Church. Recent statistics have projected that by 2050 the Episcopal Church may no longer exist, and for a church population whose average age is in the late 60’s, that projection is perhaps no surprise. 

And yet I have hope because, as I said last week, I firmly believe that as long as Jesus lives, the Church is called to live and the gates of Hades will not prevail. But at the risk of giving you theological whiplash, this week I’d like to say something different. The Church is also called to die. 

Such was the theological whiplash our friend Peter experienced in this morning’s gospel passage. You’ll remember that last week Peter boldly gave voice to an incredible revelation about Jesus, “You are the messiah,” he said, “the son of the living God.” And Jesus praised him for it, “Blessed are you Peter; you will be the rock upon which I build my church.”

But this week, just a few verses later Peter has a vastly different experience, “Get behind my Satan,” Jesus tells him, “you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” How’s that for some theological whiplash?

Jesus had just shared with Peter and the other disciples that he must undergo great suffering and be killed before rising again, and Peter, having just proclaimed Jesus to be the messiah, now rebuked him, simply unable to understand Jesus’s words. His expectations did not match the expectations of Jesus. He saw Jesus as someone who would be successful in his ministry—someone who would bring back home rule to Israel and cast out the Romans. But here Jesus was talking about the opposite—suffering and death. 

And as if that wasn’t enough, Jesus continued, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” Jesus was calling Peter and the other disciples to die. 

To die to their expectations of how a successful mission and ministry might look. To die to their wishes for power and influence. And to literally die in service to Jesus and those he served. Peter wasn’t so sure that this is what he had signed up for. 

But Jesus had a bigger picture. A bigger vision. A bigger design. Through love and through sacrifice, Jesus had his eyes on the salvation of all humanity. Jesus knew that the path to resurrection lay through the way of the cross. But in order to see that greater vision, Peter had to first die to self. Because for Jesus, the measure of success is not wealth, power, popularity, or influence, the measure of success is loving sacrifice. 

Today, two-thousand years later, we the community which was built upon Peter the rock, are also called to die. We are called to die to our nostalgic expectations that we can go back to the way things were. We are called to die to the desire for authority and influence over society. We are called to die to the patriarchal systems which have kept us on top for so long. And we are called to follow Jesus and take up the way of loving sacrifice in service to those around us. If we give all our attention to trying to save the Church as we have known it, than, as our gospel today proclaims, we will lose it. But if we give up ourselves to the service of Christ and the world, we will save it.

Around 2008, the Church of the Messiah decided to do just that. Under the leadership of Pastor Barry Randolph, they let go of their traditional models of ministry and tried something new. They changed the service time, the format of the services, the music. They turned their focus not solely to the 40 people in their pews, but to the hundreds who lived just outside of their doors. They centralized their mission to care for the poor and lead them out of their circumstances of poverty. 

I had a chance to interview Pastor Barry a few years ago and it’s incredible. You’ve never heard of a church like this. In addition to worship and Bible studies, they have feeding programs, they run 200 low income housing units, they have an incubation center for entrepreneurs, a clinic, a solar powered phone charging station, a marching band, they have become the internet provider in the neighborhood for those who could not afford it. And with more than 300 diverse members, 60% of whom are men under 30, the church lives. But to get there, they first had to die. They first had to let go of their expectations, so that they could follow Jesus to new places.

Good Shepherd is an incredible community. And thankfully we are not pressed with the threat of closing our doors any time soon. But our culture is changing, and as we plan for the future, we too will need to let go of some things. We will preserve a lot as well, but we too are called to die to ourselves and let go of some of our expectations so that we can be ready to follow Jesus into a new life. 

Imagine the possibilities if we, like Peter, set aside our anxieties and attachments to the way we think things are supposed to be so that we can take up the bigger picture that Jesus is painting for us. Imagine what our communal life will be if we measure our success not in terms of wealth, power, or popularity, but in terms of loving sacrifice. Imagine. 

The Church is called to live. But if we want to live, first, the Church is called to die. Amen.