Sermon for the Celebration of New Ministry - The Rev K Casenhiser (6-4-26)

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ - and from the good people of St. Augustine's church! It's my deep honor to bring, on their behalf, so much love and delight for you K on this very exciting occasion. I give thanks for God's faithfulness that's brought Holy Trinity to this day, and look ahead with hope and anticipation toward the ministry that lies before you all.

Naturally, much of our attention today is focused on your new rector — my friend — K. That's as it should be. Because today we're recognizing a particular calling and celebrating a particular commitment to fresh ministry within the life of the Church. But as I sat with today's readings, I became convinced that they're trying to widen our vision.

Today is certainly about leadership. Yet the Scriptures refuse to leave our attention fixed on a leader. Again and again, they redirect our gaze from an individual to a community. From a single vocation to a shared calling. From one person's ministry to God's work among an entire people. The question before us today is not simply, "Who is your rector?" The deeper question is, "Who is God calling you to become together?"

And the answer begins in a surprising place: with a leader who has reached the end of himself.

In Numbers, Moses is exhausted. The burdens of leadership have become too much to bear, and he finally speaks aloud what many leaders have felt, but few have dared to say:

"I am not able to carry all this people alone, for they are too heavy for me."

 Actually, what the reading leaves out is when he says something like: "My God, it feels like these people are gonna be the death of me! And if that's actually going to be the case, can you please just put me out of my misery now and save the trouble?

Moses and I could hang, I think.

There's something wonderfully human about this confession. This isn't Moses standing on a mountaintop where we often find him. This is Moses overwhelmed. The needs are endless and the expectations are crushing. And the work is larger than his capacity.

God is, I think, allowing Moses to learn something that every good pastor eventually must learn and — more importantly — must truly believe:

That the mission of Christ's church is too large to be carried by any one person.

What's actually more remarkable than this is God's response. God doesn't tell Moses to try harder. God doesn't offer Moses greater stamina or stronger resolve. Instead, God gathers seventy elders and places upon them the same Spirit that rested upon Moses. In other words, God's answer is not a stronger leader. God's answer is a Spirit-filled people.

"They shall bear the burden of the people along with you, so that you will not bear it all by yourself."

That is not simply a lesson about Moses. That's a lesson about how to do Church. Although Holy Trinity has surely called one, the future of this parish does not depend upon one gifted priest.

Now, please don't misunderstand me. A competent rector matters. Leadership matters. Preaching matters. Vision matters. The Church should pray fervently for faithful and skilled clergy, because the work matters deeply. But every congregation eventually faces one specific temptation: to imagine that its future rests upon finding the right leader. And Scripture simply will not allow us to believe that.

The future of the Church has never rested upon one person apart from Jesus of Nazareth. Not Moses. Not Peter. Not Augustine. Not Cranmer.

Not your new rector. The future of the Church rests upon the God who pours out the Spirit upon the whole people of God. And that means there is a challenge here for both rector and congregation.

K, you're first: your calling is not to become indispensable. The Church already has a Savior, and - I love you - but it isn't you. Your task is not to gather ministry into your own hands, but to give it away. Your success will not ultimately be measured by how much you accomplish personally, but rather by how many people discover their own vocation because of your ministry among them. When you start to feel like Moses, please remember this. It is a kind of gracious freedom gift-wrapped to you personally by the Holy Spirit.

And to the congregation: you cannot outsource your own discipleship to your rector. One of the great temptations of modern church life is to hire professionals to do what baptism has already called us to do. We've largely become consumers of religious goods and services rather than participants in the mission of God.

And again, Scripture will have none of that. Specially, Paul will have none of it. In Ephesians, Paul tells us that Christ gives gifts throughout the whole body. Some are called to teach. Some to serve. Some to lead. Some to encourage. Some to organize. Some to pray. Some to offer wisdom. Some to offer hospitality. But every one of those gifts is given for the building up of the body of Christ.

Notice what Paul says leaders are for: they are given "to equip the saints for the work of ministry." The saints are not the audience. The saints are the ministers. The saints are YOU. Which - if I remember my high algebra correctly and if A=B and B=C, then YOU are the ministers. Each and every one of you. Which means today's installation is not merely the beginning of a new chapter for one priest. It is a renewed call for every baptized person in this room.

Every one of us has a ministry, and a calling, and has been entrusted with gifts that the Church needs. I'm not a sports guy, but I'm confident that Christian discipleship is not a spectator sport. Nor is the Church merely a therapeutic oasis where wounded people come to feel slightly better about themselves before returning to normal life.

The Church is a community being formed into the likeness of Christ for the sake of the world. That calling is beautiful. And it is costly. It will require your time and your attention. It will require your generosity. It will require repentance. It will require courage. Because following Jesus has always involved dying to the illusion that our lives belong to us alone.

And that raises another question. To what end are all these gifts directed? The Psalm answers that this evening and reminds us that God's heart is turned toward those whom society overlooks, excludes, and forgets. Which means the Church - if it is to be faithful to God - cannot become preoccupied only with itself. Churches - like every institution - are often tempted to turn inward. We worry about budgets and buildings, attendance, and institutional survival. And those concerns are real. They matter.

But if we become consumed by preserving ourselves, we will forget why God called this Church into being in the first place. We're not called merely to maintain an institution while Jesus is you know, kind of "out of the office" as it were. We are called to bear witness to the kingdom of God that Christ himself broke open for us and for the whole of creation.

It's cosmically important work. It's holy work. And it is difficult work. Jesus reminds us where the strength for that work comes from. In John's Gospel, before Jesus sends the disciples into the world, before he speaks about fruitfulness, before he even gives them their mission, he tells them something far more fundamental:

"Abide in my love."

That command comes before everything else. Before programs and strategies. Before goals. Even before ministry. Abide. Remain. Dwell. Draw in. Be held. Stay rooted in the love of God, because the Church cannot —and will not— sustain itself through effort alone. The Christian life isn't powered by determination, or competence, or sheer willpower. It is sustained by the very grace of God. And we are fools when we act to the contrary. Before we are workers for Christ, we are loved by Christ. Before we are sent by Christ, we are welcomed by Christ. Before we bear fruit, we are nourished by Christ.

To the rector: abide in Christ more deeply than you abide in your work.

To this congregation: abide in Christ more deeply than you abide in your preferences, your traditions, your anxieties, or your ambitions.

Because every season of fruitful ministry begins right there.

The burden is shared. The gifts are many. The mission is God's. And the source of it all— every last drop of it — is the love of our Savior Jesus Christ.

Amen