Sermon preached by the Reverend Nicholas Lang, Rector

St. Paul’s on the Green, Norwalk, Connecticut

6^th Sunday after Pentecost - July 8, 2007

May the peace we offer to others be found again within us, and the grace with which we live be a gift to those who wait in hope. Amen.

I was sitting in my den watching TV on July 4^th when the door bell rang. My callers were two people who politely announced that they were there to offer me a positive message. Recognizing the telltale Bible and bundle of promotional material under their arm, I just as politely extricated myself from what I knew would be a long proselytizing oration. Truth be told, my uninvited visitors were interrupting reruns of “I Love Lucy.”

I have to give them credit, especially as it was a holiday, and I often wonder how much past first base these folks get with their targets. It occurs to me that there is one significant difference between them and the 70 that Jesus sent out in Luke’s Gospel account. Jesus instructed them to carry no purse, no bag, no sandals. They did not have any props – no Bibles or the Book of Mormon or evangelism tracts to hand out. They were sent out simply to be themselves and to let God happen through them.

Now this is the kind of summer Sunday morning when I suspect your prayer is “Dear God, please let the preacher get right to the point!” And so I will. What we learn from this Gospel is that Jesus acknowledges that, when it comes to preaching the good news, he can’t do it all and he can’t do it alone; so he empowers a body of others to work in cooperative ministry with him.

For too long a time we have been conditioned to think that the preaching of the Gospel is principally the job of the priest or minister who serves a congregation. The sending out of the seventy about which we read today should help debunk that myth. Every time we renew our baptismal covenant, you and I promise that, with God’s help, we will proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ.

Now the reality is that most people are reticent to do that because they don’t want to come off like the aggressive door-to-door evangelists who intrude on people’s homes and attempt to sell them their particular brand of religion. Nor do people want to be perceived by friends as religious fanatics. So often we say nothing about what church or the Gospel mean for us. So how can you preach without being preachy?

Last November, during our annual retreat in Lenox, I asked the participants to create a list of words that described what was troublesome to them about religion as they had experienced it in their past and what was compelling to them their experience of church as they now know it. The first list contained words like “too rigid and rule based,” “intolerance,” and “judgmentalism.” Words that described what is compelling about religion as they now experience it were “home,” “community,” “comfortable,” “real joy,” “acceptance,” “room to explore and grow,” and “life-changing.” One person wrote, “My life is full in the most wonderful way.”

When we regrouped and reviewed the list, I pointed out to them that the word “God” appeared only twice on the long inventory of features they had identified – the point being that what they had created was the language with which to “preach” about what the religion and the church and God had meant for their lives, none of it that would convey the impression that they were “holy rollers.”

Scottish theologian P .T. Forsyth once remarked that “the first business of the church is to preach. And the first business of the person the congregation calls to be their minister is to enable the whole church to preach.” The job of the preacher is to preach on Sunday so that the rest of us can preach the rest of the week. Your clergy minister to this congregation so that all of you might better minister to the world.

Just as it was for the seventy sent out by Jesus, the blessing that we bring to our sisters and brothers is the blessing of peace. How many people today hunger for that – for peace in their lives, in their relationships, in their jobs, in their homes, in their minds, in their souls. They long to hear about a place that feels like home, that is a genuine community, where they can be comfortable no matter who they are, experience real joy, and find acceptance in an atmosphere where there is room to explore and grow, a house of prayer and peace that can be life-changing.

Before me this morning sits a community empowered to preach and to change lives. Like the seventy, Jesus calls us to be a people on mission – not to razzle-dazzle people with some canned doctrinal pitch, but simply to be ourselves, tell our story, and offer the invitation to explore. The strength of the church is measured, not by its seating capacity but by its sending capacity.

At the very end of our Eucharist every Sunday, the deacon sends us out with words like “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.” It means that our worship is over but our service begins. It is really Jesus sending us forth to do God’s work in the world. Will you go?