Answer Readily the Call

In today's Collect we prayed for the grace to "answer readily the call of our Savior Jesus Christ and proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation"—and I wonder, are you going to accept God's call?

 

 

Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10

Psalm 19

1 Corinthians 12:12-31a

Luke 4:14-21

 

© 2025 The Rev. Seth Olson

 

Holy God, may my words be your words and when my words are not your words, may your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

 

I’ll never forget a particularly challenging cross-country race I ran in college. It was early in my senior season, and on a hot, dusty course early on a September Saturday, the air was thick with anticipation as runners gathered at the starting line. I remember glancing around, tempted to compare myself to the others, wondering if I had trained enough, if I was ready for what lay ahead. When the race began, it didn’t take long for the physical and mental barriers to emerge—the burning lungs, the aching legs, the painful side stitch, and the voice in my head that said, “You can’t do this.” For much of the race, I suffered. Eventually though, I remembered the training, the rhythm, and the encouragement of my coach: “Control the controllables. Focus on your next step. Run your race not someone else’s.” That ended up being my worst race of the season. The poor performance stemmed from focusing on beating the competition instead of running the race set before me with perseverance.

 

In many ways, the life of faith is like that race. It requires discipline, resilience, and a willingness to face challenges head-on. And just as my coach’s voice reminded me to focus on what truly mattered and what I have control over, Jesus’ proclamation in today’s Gospel lesson centers us in work that truly matters and something we have control over. Let’s take a closer look.

 

After being baptized and tested in the wilderness, Jesus returned to Galilee, filled with the power of the Spirit, and began teaching in synagogues. When he arrived in Nazareth, his hometown, he unfurled the scroll of Isaiah and read these words:

 

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

 

And then, Jesus declared, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” With these words, Jesus set the agenda for his ministry and for the work of the Kingdom of God. Good news to the poor, release to the captives, and sight to the blind were not abstract ideals or lofty aspirations; they were concrete markers of the mission we share with Christ—the daily bread meant to sustain us as we walk with him.

 

One of the ways we are guided into this work, one of the ways we know what direction to travel is through prayer. What I mean by prayer is a conversation with God when we both speak and more importantly listen to what God is saying. In our Collect this morning (that’s the prayer read right before the readings that collects all the themes from this Season in the Church Year and the readings for today), in that collect, we prayed for grace to “answer readily the call of our Savior Jesus Christ and proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation.” What does it mean to answer that call? 

 

First, it means recognizing that Jesus’ mission is our mission. It is our work to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim release to captives, to help the blind recover sight, to free the oppressed, and to declare the year of the Lord’s favor. These are not optional parts of our faith—they are its very essence.

 

Here at Holy Apostles, we already live into this call in many ways. We bring good news to the poor when we support Episcopal Place, pack food for hungry students at Trace Crossings, and distribute coats through the Grace Woodlawn Food Pantry. We proclaim release to captives when we participate in Kairos Prison Ministries and support ministries of reconciliation and healing like hosting a Narcotics Anonymous group here. And we strive to help others see—not just with their eyes but with their hearts. This kind of inner sight—the ability to recognize our own blind spots, faults, and gifts—is where our transformation begins.

 

Of course, this work is not easy. Following Jesus inevitably brought those early disciples face to face with challenges, resistance, and roadblocks. They all gave their lives to the Way of Christ. Some were martyrs who died horrible deaths because of their faith, and some were martyrs who gave their entire lives to Jesus (even if they died peaceably). Often these faith conflicts happened because of what I was doing at the beginning of that cross-country race, we fall into competitiveness like how I was fixated on what everyone else was doing. We do the same in our lives, even when it comes to our faith or spirituality.

 

In our divided world, it is tempting to retreat into our corners, to draw lines of division between “us” and “them.” We get so attached to this way of thinking that we turn church into a competition. But Jesus called his followers to resist this way of being. His mission was for everyone—friend and stranger, neighbor and enemy alike. Perhaps you have seen this cartoon, which illustrates well this point. On a vast white canvas people are busy drawing lines to box themselves in and others out. Jesus at the same time is using his eraser to make those lines vanish.[1] Every time we draw a line of exclusion, Jesus is at work erasing it, breaking down barriers, and inviting us to join him in this holy work. The question is, will we?

 

We live in a time when our foundational Christian virtues of love, mercy, and forgiveness feel under attack—from political firestorms and the rise of Christian Nationalism, which often seeks to weaponize our faith for worldly power. It is easy to feel overwhelmed, even disheartened. We might wonder where is God and how can we find God? And, in such times I am reminded of a favorite story from Holy Scripture, which involved Elijah. 

This paramount prophet went out in search for the Divine One. At first, he sought God in the exciting—flame, flood, or force, but God was not found there (I’m sure God was there, but Elijah couldn’t behold God there). He found God not in the wind, nor the earthquake, nor the fire, but in the sheer silence that followed (1 Kings 19). It is in that stillness that we can reconnect with God, find our grounding, and get reminded that the Spirit of the Lord dwells in all—friend, stranger, unlikely neighbor, and even ones we perceive to be our enemies.

 

For me in that silence, I discover that as much as I might want to point my finger and criticize others, Jesus continually turns me back to God. That’s what Jesus does with his followers, he turns them back to their own hearts and actions. This is what he wants for all of us—to turn back to God by acknowledging where we are out of step with the Kingdom’s goals.

 

We know this to be true not just from this story, but from other examples throughout Scripture. Most notably, before we can help others remove the specks from their eyes, we must confront the planks in our own. This is hard, humbling work, but it is also the work that brings freedom and transformation—not just for ourselves, but also for the world God loves. If we want joy, mercy, and love in the world, we must first cultivate it within ourselves and within this community.

 

Answering the call of Jesus begins with asking for this kind of sight—the challenging vision, which allows us to see our own shortcomings, the courage to confront them, and the grace to change them with God’s help. While Jesus was always with his followers in this work, and God's grace requires no prerequisite condition, it is only when we do our own work of untangling ourselves from sinfulness, idolatry, and evil that we can join Jesus in his mission of healing, liberation, and reconciliation. Peace as they say, starts at home. So does healing, liberation, and reconciliation!

 

This week ahead, I invite you to reflect on how you are being called to proclaim good news and participate in God’s mission. Where do you see opportunities to bring healing and hope? How can you work to release captives, feed the hungry, or build bridges across divides? What blind spots in your own life might God be inviting you to address?

 

The Spirit of the Lord is indeed upon us. We are anointed to do this work, not in isolation but together, as the Body of Christ. As we follow Jesus in this shared mission, may we find the grace to answer his call readily and to proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation. And all the while, may we remember that this Good News is not just for “us,” nor is it only for “them”—it is for all of us, together. Amen.

 

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[1] Hayward, David. “Eraser Digital Cartoon” from The Naked Pastor website [https://nakedpastor.com/products/eraser, accessed January 26, 2025]. 

The Way of Discipleship: Taking Up the Cross

Click the photo above to experience worship at Holy Apostles

 

This sermon was preached on the 17^th Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 19B) at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles. You may watch the video of this sermon by clicking here. The readings which inspired the sermon were the following: 

 

Proverbs 1:20-33
Psalm 19
 James 3:1-12
Mark 8:27-38

 

Opening Prayer: Holy God, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

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Introduction: Who Do You Say That I Am?

Today’s Gospel lesson from Mark transports us into a moment of critical clarity. Jesus asks his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?" And the answers come quickly: John the Baptist, Elijah, one of the prophets. But then Jesus gets personal, turning to the twelve and asking, "But who do you say that I am?"

This question is at the heart of discipleship. It forces each of us to confront our own understanding of Jesus and his mission. Peter’s response, "You are the Messiah," reveals his faith, but as we soon see, it’s not fully formed. Peter, like many of us, is still learning what it means to follow Jesus. Discipleship, after all, is not about having all the right answers; it’s about being on a journey of growth and transformation.

The Hard Road of Discipleship

After Peter’s declaration, Jesus speaks openly about the suffering that lies ahead: the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, be rejected, killed, and rise again. This was not the triumphant Messiah that Peter expected. Peter reacts as many of us would, recoiling from the idea of a suffering Savior, rebuking Jesus for this talk of death and defeat.

Jesus responds to Peter’s resistance with harsh words: "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things." Jesus challenges Peter—and challenges us—to see beyond worldly success, comfort, and power. Discipleship is not about achieving greatness in the eyes of the world; it’s about aligning ourselves with the will of God, even when that path leads to sacrifice.

Taking Up the Cross

Jesus then turns to the crowd, widening the scope of this message. His call to discipleship is not only for the twelve but for everyone. "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."

This is the heart of discipleship: self-denial, carrying the cross, and following Jesus. It’s a call to lose our lives in order to save them, to let go of our attachment to worldly success so we may embrace the way of the cross. But what does this look like in our everyday lives?

For some of us, this might mean stepping out of our comfort zones, letting go of the need to control, or being willing to face ridicule or rejection for the sake of the gospel. For others, it might mean a deep inner transformation—a willingness to let go of pride, selfishness, or fear in order to truly follow Christ’s way of love and service.

Discipleship at Holy Apostles: Growing as Students of Jesus

Here at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles, we are all students of Jesus. The call to discipleship is a call to lifelong learning. We are called to listen to Jesus’ teachings, not just with our ears but with our hearts, to let his words reshape our lives and our communities.

This passage from Mark invites us to reflect on how we, as a church, can continue to grow in discipleship. Are we willing to embrace the difficult, countercultural path of following Jesus? Are we willing to set aside our own desires and agendas in order to serve others in Christ’s name?

One of the ways we can take up our cross is by becoming more intentional about how we live out our faith in the world. Discipleship isn’t limited to what happens within the walls of the church—it’s about how we live every day. How do we treat our neighbors, our co-workers, and the strangers we encounter? How do we embody Christ’s love in our families and communities?

Conclusion: Losing and Gaining Life

Jesus’ words may seem difficult, even drastic: "For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it." This is the paradox of discipleship. When we cling too tightly to our own lives, our own desires, we end up losing sight of what truly matters. But when we let go—when we surrender to the way of Christ—we find a deeper, truer life, rooted in love, mercy, and justice.

As we reflect on what it means to take up our cross, let us remember that discipleship is not a solitary journey. We walk this path together, as a community of faith, supporting and encouraging one another as we seek to follow Christ more closely.

May we have the courage to answer Jesus’ call, to take up our cross, and to live lives of radical discipleship. Amen.

 

Faith and Family

Jesus takes a swipe at faith and family in this week's Gospel text, but why?

June 6, 2021—The Second Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 5B)

1 Samuel 8:4-11, (12-15), 16-20, (11:14-15)
Psalm 138
2 Corinthians 4:13-5:1
Mark 3:20-35

 © 2021 Seth Olson

Holy One, let my words be your words and when my words are not your words, let your people be cunning enough to know the same. Amen.

A couple of years ago Progressive Insurance Company launched an all-too-relatable advertising campaign. In it a comically fictitious self-help expert named Dr. Rick advises new homeowners in the fine art of how to not become like your parents. Have you seen these ads? This guru in one memorable spot asks some of his students, “Do we really need a sign to help us to ‘Live, Laugh, and Love’?” They respond in a brainwashed monotone, “YES!” Dr. Rick compassionately shoots back, “The answer is no!” Then, he helps a woman throw away the kitschy sign. While these commercials are funny, they are so because we all too often feel as though we are becoming like our parents, and sometimes in all the ways in which we wish we were not!

Now, I do not have a problem with hanging a “Live, Laugh, and Love” sign in my house, but I like many other southerners live not by those three L’s, but by five F’s. Faith, Family, Friends, Food, and Football. While I say this partly in jest, the first three F’s stand out as crucial ingredients in experiencing a satisfying life. However, in today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus appears to do to Faith and Family what Dr. Rick did to the “Live, Laugh, and Love” sign. 

After reading this passage, we might be wondering if Jesus was struggling to not become like his earthly family as well. Going even further than the commercial’s self-help expert, Jesus called out both his religious leaders and his own kin, undermining two of the most important pillars of societal life. But, why? Why was Jesus so aggravated by the scribes, his mother, and his siblings? And what can we learn about our relationship with God and each other through these confrontations?

To answer these questions, we first need a bit of context. You may not have realized it, but today we find ourselves in a completely different Gospel account. The last couple months of months we have heard from the Gospel according to John with its high view of Christ, rich theology, and abundance of metaphors. Mark relayed his good news in a different way than John. Everything here in Mark is immediate. Rough edges stick out, and they may snag us; however, these jagged places reveal new ways to follow Jesus. Also, within Mark everything moves so very quickly that by today’s text so much has already happened.

Here is a brief recap: Jesus received his baptism by John the Baptizer, overcame temptation in the wilderness, and after John’s arrest began to proclaim repentance as the Kingdom of God had come near. Then, Jesus called his first disciples and began to heal people at such a breakneck pace that it required him to hide from the crowds. When Jesus healed a paralytic man lowered through a roof by his friends, the scribes began to grumble—not because Jesus healed someone, but because he forgave the paralytic man’s sins—a blasphemy according to the religious leaders. Next, Jesus called Levi (a tax collector) to be a disciple, which drove the scribes crazy as did eating with sinners. To top it all off Jesus would not stop his healing mission even on the Sabbath allowing his disciples to pluck the heads of grain on the day of rest and healing a man’s withered hand on the solemn day. By the time Jesus called the rest of his disciples and headed back to his hometown, the stage was set for the confrontation we heard today—of course, it was not just one confrontation—it was two—Jesus challenged both his religion and his family.

Now because of the way in which Mark told his version of the Good News, everything is connected. These two seemingly independent conflicts against family and religion are interwoven, not unlike how multiple conflicts get complicated in today’s world. Mark used a particular storytelling shape to tie together events that might otherwise appear disconnected. Did you notice a pattern in today’s reading?

It began in Jesus’ hometown with Jesus’ family confronting him. (Let’s call that A) Then, the scribes berated Jesus (B). Jesus told a strange parable about a home invasion. (C) Before, clapping back first at the scribes (B revisited), then his family (A revisited). So, it went A. Family B. Scribes C. Parable. B. Scribes. A. Family. ABCBA. Y’all still with me? So, now that we have a bit a context, why did Jesus so strongly rebut the scribes and his family? Let’s start with his family.

Often, we describe the bond between family members saying blood is thicker than water. And yet, this Gospel points to Jesus seeing his mission on earth as something that was an even higher calling than the love shared with biological family. When the people of his hometown worried about him, Jesus’ family rushed in to intercede—to talk some sense into him. Make no mistake Jesus’ mission was intense. They did not have time or space even to eat—a family could worry. However, the way in which Jesus’ family went to help him could have been a little more tactful, as they seemed to agree “He ha[d] gone out of his mind.” Instead of supporting Jesus’ mission, his family seemingly wanted to halt it altogether. The scribes, waiting for a moment to pounce, jumped on this train.

Right at this crisis moment with Jesus’ family, the religious leaders claimed that Jesus was not an agent of God, but instead his power comes from an evil place. “He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons,” they said. Here is a moment, not of wondering if Jesus is out of line, but of calling him satanic and opposed to the will of God. It would make sense, then why Jesus would so strongly push back against the scribes.

So, during an already frantic mission, Jesus was confronted by not just his family but his life-long religion as well—two groups that held so much sway in his life. Together they said, “You’re crazy” and “You’re evil.” At this point my question of why Jesus would respond so strongly to his family and his religion seems silly. Why wouldn’t he forcefully push back against these untruthful claims? To understand what we can learn about our relationship with God and each other though, we must look closer at how Jesus responded to these two groups.

First, Jesus employed a cutting question to wonder how and why Satan would work against himself. “How can Satan cast out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself it cannot stand.” The same is true of a household. It’s like asking, how can a quarterback intercept his own pass or a batter catch his own fly ball? It would not happen. While this sort of division is bad, there is something more sinister at work. The scribes dangerously claimed that God’s good work was evil—more on this in a moment.

For now, let me ask you, is there a particular analogy you like to utilize when thinking about Jesus or God? Maybe the good shepherd? The loving father embracing the Prodigal Son? The woman searching for her lost coin? How about a plundering robber tying up a strong man? We do not typically think of this last analogy, the one from today’s reading.

In it, Jesus compared himself to a thief during a home invasion. It’s not too different from Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to the poor, but in this case, Jesus was stealing the souls of those swayed by the evil one to now serve in God’s reign. I am not for theft, but in this case plunder on Jesus! Plunder on!

This parable helped Jesus to express that part of his work of building the Reign of God was undoing the work of evil. Jesus was not entering into an unoccupied territory—he was going to take from Beelzebul what is rightfully God’s. And, this brings us back to the trouble with calling good evil and evil good.

When Jesus faced off against the scribes, he claimed they had committed an unforgiveable blasphemy. This is not the same thing as one of us stubbing our toe and taking the Lord’s name in vain. When we do this, it’s not great, but what the scribes did was something else entirely. They saw the work of God and called God’s goodness evil. They saw God’s work and attributed it to Satan. This is so important for us to get. It’s not that God does not love these scribes and God will always always always love us! However, it’s critically important that when presented with the truth—when looking at this world we call goodness goodness and evil evil.

This stands out as an enormous takeaway from this text. We as people of the Church must discern carefully with Christ. We must work together as we read Holy Scripture, learn from the Church’s tradition, experience worship, so that we can form a truthful lens.

So, what can we learn from Jesus disavowing his family? Jesus had just been told by his family that he was to stop his mission because he was crazy. Seeing Jesus look around at his students, his followers and calling them his family is both a poignant and a cutting moment. This is not Jesus rebuking family as an unnecessary institution, nor is it evidence for us to turn our backs on our families without good reason. Still, Jesus here pointed out an important truth: even though the biological bond of family is crucial, the bond of one’s spiritual family is the most critical.

Following Jesus is supremely difficult. Jesus told us things like sell all your possessions and give your money to the poor, love your enemies and turn the other cheek, and I came to save not the righteous but the lost. Christ Jesus’ way is counter-cultural and not just in a cool and fun way, but in a way that will challenge us to the core. Are we willing to give up things, even really good things so that we can have the best thing? Are we willing to point out when our faith or are family are out of step with what Christ challenges us to do and who Christ calls us to be? Are we able to live into Christ’s radical love such that we see all that unites us and binds us together?

We do not have to live as a house divided. We can come together in God’s House. We do not classes on how to not be like our parents, just as long as we are like Our Heavenly Parent. Jesus calls us to follow him giving up even really good things so that we may take hold of the best thing—God’s way of love. Amen.

What call would immediately change your life? Matthew 4:18-25

Simon and Andrew, James and John have been doing the same work their entire lives. Rising early in the morning, they spend long hours in the scorching heat without cover out on the waters of the Sea of Galilee. Their hands are severely callused, their arms and shoulders routinely sore, and their backs extremely tight from hauling in fish, that is when they have been fortunate enough to catch them. Zebedee, James’ and John’s father sits in the boat, a constant fatherly presence and a reminder of the one who taught them not only how to fish, but how to live. From the time they were boys Zebedee brought them out upon the water not just as sons, but also as apprentices. These brothers live off of what they catch, and not just them, but their entire families. Before they caught their livelihood in the Sea of Galilee their fathers and uncles did, and their fathers and uncles before them. This is the family business. This is their life. They are fishermen.

Every day possesses the same routine: rise early, cast out over and over again, hopefully haul in fish, then return home sore and tired. Then, one day a stranger walks onto the shore where the brothers cast off to make their catch. He simply utters an invitation, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." The men, without hesitation, lay down the family business, their livelihoods, their life’s work at the request of passerby. “Immediately they left their nets and followed him.” 

Wait, what?! Are you serious Matthew?! That’s it?! No further explanation. No more detail, then that they laid down their nets and followed him. We hear this quaint story about fishing for people so many times that it becomes easy to overlook. Simon, Andrew, and the two Zebedee boys leave the work that provides them with food, shelter, and an opportunity to continue living, so that they can follow an itinerant preacher and healer. Fishing may be a smelly, sweaty, back-aching job, but it’s a way to make a living, it is a way of providing for one’s family, it is a way to survive.  

What was Zebedee thinking of his two sons James and John as they put down their nets? He might have thought, “I raised you to be fishermen. Now you want to go and follow this homeless stranger! You are going to throw away your life.” Later in Matthew, Jesus will say, “If you want to save your life you will destroy it.” We all know this saying, but still how many of us could even fathom giving up the power and control we have to make money, to make a living, to provide for our families? This is radical what these brothers are doing on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. They are leaving everything they have so that they can follow Jesus. Is there anything in this world that would make you leave your means for security and survival? Or put another way, what call would immediately change your life? 

I can tell you the precise geographic location (All Saints’ Chapel Sewanee, Tennessee) and specific date in history (Saturday, March 22, 2008) when I clearly heard Jesus’ call “Come, Follow me.” The two years before this day had been a struggle. I had fought with God trying to believe that he did not exist, but every time I turned my back on God, he was there. Finally I relented, and so on this night, the night of the Easter Vigil, I had reaffirmed my baptismal vows. I was serving as a chalice bearer, and the first person who extended his hands to receive the chalice was my childhood priest. As our eyes met, we shared a moment of communion. Then, I lifted back the silver chalice to reveal that the reflection in the cup made it appear as though all those gathered around the altar were making up the chalice. We, gathered together, are the Chalice, the Blood and Body of Christ. I knew then, that my call was to serve within that Body and to continue to hold up those sacraments as signs of God’s grace in this world. Before that moment I knew God existed, I knew I loved God, but I was not following him like Simon, Andrew, James, and John. God is calling each of us to immediately drop our nets and follow him. Maybe it’s not so dramatic as what I just described or what the Galilean brothers did, yet we are all ordained through our baptism and we are all called to be ministers in God’s Church.

This week we have spent a good bit of time at St. John’s exploring our congregational call to ministry through the envisioning process. We are learning one sheet of paper at a time, who we are as a community, for what we are thankful, what we yearn for as a church, and what ministries we are craving. As we continue to listen, I encourage us to listen to Jesus’ simple invitation, “Come follow me, and I will make you fishers of people.” Amen.