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| "The Life of Our Lord Jesus Christ (La Vie de Notre-Seigneur Jésus-Christ)" by James Tissot, Nantes, France, 1836–1902, Chenecey–Buillon, France |
Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 24
Revelation 21:1-6a
John 11:32-44
© 2024, The Rev. Seth Olson
This sermon was preached at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hoover, AL on the 25th Sunday after Pentecost. A video of the sermon may be found here.
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.
This past week, our nation held its breath. Each one of us, no matter which side of the aisle we were on, felt the weight of anticipation. For some, there is relief and hope; for others, fear and frustration. And yet, here we all are today, in God’s house. We come together as a community not defined by our political stances but by a deeper calling to follow Christ and live into God’s abundant grace.
In times of conflict, it’s easy to feel that abundance is far away, that there’s not enough peace, not enough understanding, not enough common ground. But today’s readings invite us into a different mindset, one rooted in a profound trust in God’s abundance—even, and especially, when we cannot see it clearly.
Our first story from Ruth offers a window into God’s abundance showing up in ways we might never expect. Ruth and Naomi, two widows with little to their names, found themselves relying on the kindness of others. In a world that didn’t value their voices, Ruth courageously placed herself at Boaz’s feet, asking him to be their redeemer. Boaz’s choice to respond with compassion and generosity changed everything. This small act of kindness lead to a richness that didn’t just help Ruth and Naomi—it became part of a lineage leading to King David and, ultimately, to Christ Jesus.
In times of division, we often lose sight of the small acts that God uses to bring about healing. Ruth and Boaz remind us that abundance isn’t always about dramatic miracles or grand gestures; it’s often about simple kindness, a willingness to see and respond to the needs of others. This is a lesson that transcends any election cycle, any political party, any position. Where might God be asking us to offer unexpected kindness in a world that seems starved of it?
Psalm 127 reminds us that “unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain.” In other words, no matter how hard we try, our efforts alone cannot bring about the fullness of God’s kingdom. True security, true abundance, come from trusting in God.
How often do we, in our personal or communal lives, lean on our own understanding, our own strategies, our own convictions, forgetting that it is God who ultimately holds us all? Especially in these divided times, Psalm 127 invites us to remember that no political outcome alone will bring the peace we long for. That peace comes from God’s abundance—a gift that we’re called to share, not hoard. Now let’s move to our Epistle reading for today.
Hebrews speaks of Christ entering “heaven itself” on our behalf. Jesus’ sacrifice was an act of total abundance—an overflowing gift of love and forgiveness that reminds us of God’s profound commitment to us. This is the abundance that has the power to heal our deepest wounds, to bring reconciliation where there has been rift.
As Christians, we are called to reflect this same generosity in the world. Can we see our role, especially in these times, as being agents of that abundant love? Christ didn’t give of himself only for those who agreed with him or only for those who seemed worthy. No, Christ’s love extends to all.
Remember on the night before Jesus died, he washed his disciples’ feet and shared in an intimate meal with them. He did not leave out Judas who betrayed him, Peter who denied him, nor any of the other disciples who abandoned him. Self-giving, sacrificial love is the way of Christ. And, this is the model we’re invited to follow as we engage with those who may see the world differently from us.
Finally, we arrive at the story of the widow’s mite. Jesus observed this husband-less, and in that day powerless woman giving her last two coins, her entire livelihood. She had so little to give, but she trusted God with all of it. She believed that God would supply her needs. In her, we see faith in God’s abundance—a radical belief that God will provide, even when it seems impossible.
In a divided world, it is easy to feel we don’t have enough to make a difference, that our small acts of faith and love don’t add up to much. But God sees things differently. Each small act of kindness, each moment of reconciliation, each time we choose to listen rather than argue—these are our “mites,” our contributions to God’s abundant work in the world.
So where does this leave us, especially today? We are a people called to be signs of God’s abundance in a world that often believes in scarcity. This means choosing to be gentle with one another, to extend grace to those who may not share our views, to offer support to those who feel the weight of this election in ways we may not fully understand.
God’s abundance is never diminished by being shared. In truth, it grows. So, as we go forward, let’s ask ourselves: How can we be part of God’s abundance? How can we bring healing to the hurt and reconciliation to the divisions that surround us?
Perhaps it’s in a conversation over coffee with someone we disagree with. Maybe it’s in reaching out to someone feeling afraid or alone. It would be wise to include praying for our leaders, regardless of who they are, that they may be instruments of God’s justice and mercy.
In these small acts, we become part of God’s abundant work in this broken world. We become instruments of God’s peace and partners in bringing about a kingdom that transcends every political divide. May we trust in Our Almighty and All-loving God and find courage to be bearers of that abundance, now and always. Amen.
