A Sermon for the Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany
February 5, 2023
Text: Matthew 5:13-20
Now, O Lord, take my lips, and speak through them. Take our minds, and think through them. Take our hearts, and set them on fire. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
A few years ago, while I was serving as the priest at my former parish in Alabaster, I was contacted by a couple from the community who owned several laundromats in the area.
They reached out to see if our parish would be interested in partnering with them to offer days throughout the year when people from the community could come to the laundromat and do their laundry for free.
Their only stipulation was that we would provide the laundry detergent and dryer sheets and that we would send volunteers to help greet people as they came in and get them started on the washers and dryers.
Without even hesitating, I told them we would love to help.
We called it “Laundry Love.”
As I understand it, St. Mary’s has been involved with something similar in the past.
We got started in the summer of 2021—in the height of the pandemic, and we decided that we would offer “Laundry Love” every three months. It started off kind of slow, but as more and more people heard about what we were doing, the ministry continued to grow.
After about a year of offering “Laundry Love” to the community, we were doing close to two hundred loads of laundry at each event. I was amazed by the number of people who came. A lot of people knew about it in advance, but most were completely surprised when they came into the laundromat and we told them it was “free laundry day.”
This past October, I attended my last “Laundry Love.”
Everything was going as expected.
And then, toward the end of the evening, I was approached by a gentleman who was really touched by what we were doing.
Before he left, be came up to me and said, “My mother used to do my laundry for me. She’s no longer living, and it’s so nice to know there are still people who care enough about me to come and help me with my laundry.”
I told him that we were happy to do it.
I was so thankful that he took the time to share with me how much that ministry meant to him.
His words reminded me that we can have a real impact on people’s lives—sometimes without even realizing it.
In that moment, I was also reminded of why we were there in the first place.
Yes, we were tending to the physical needs of people in our community by offering free loads of laundry. But, even more importantly, we were tending to their souls by showing them that they were loved and cared for.
In the language of the Church, you might say it was sacramental—an outward and visible sign of God’s inward and spiritual grace.
I wanted to share this story with you today because sometimes it’s easy to forget why we’re here.
Sometimes, it’s easy to forget why God has called us together as the Body of Christ—especially when we focus so much of our time and energy on what happens here at church.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Church life is incredibly important—especially when we gather for worship on Sunday mornings. I want you to come and worship as much as possible. And, I want you to be involved in other church activities and ministries as well. It’s how we’re strengthened and nourished in our discipleship and how we grow together as a community of faith.
But, as a church, we can’t ever lose sight of what it is that God is ultimately calling us to do. And that is to go out and be the hands and feet of Christ in the world.
This is why, at the end of every celebration of the Eucharist, we say words of dismissal, like “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.” These words aren’t just a nice way of saying, “The service is over.” They keep us mindful of the fact that what we do here on Sunday mornings isn’t really about us.
What we do here—when we gather to hear the Word of God and receive the sacrament of Christ’s Body and Blood—is preparing us for the work God has given us to do in every corner of our lives.
Church is the place where we come each week to experience God’s love and to be filled through Word and Sacrament, but our commitment to Christ is more than just an hour a week on Sundays mornings.
The real work of ministry begins when we leave this place—when we take all the love we’ve been given and go forth into the world to share that love with others.
That’s not always easy, though, is it?
When we’re here at church—surrounded by people who love us and care about us—it’s easy to share that love right back.
At church, we can be ourselves without feeling judged or looked down upon. We can talk openly about our faith in God and even those moments when we struggle with our faith. We know that when we walk through those big, red doors, at the front of the church we’ll be welcomed in with open arms.
For most of us, church is a sanctuary and a place where we feel the love of God at work in our lives in a very real and tangible way.
But, when we leave this place, it’s not always easy to feel God’s presence, and it’s not always easy to be faithful in our call to walk with Christ.
Sometimes, we want to keep God’s love to ourselves, because if we open our hearts to others, we stand a really good chance of getting hurt or taken advantage of.
Sometimes, it’s just easier and safer to keep to ourselves and not worry about sharing God’s love with anyone else.
But, the problem with that, dear friends, is that God’s love isn’t ours to keep.
It belongs only to God, and Jesus teaches us that God’s love is meant to be shared.
In our Gospel lesson for today—which is a direct continuation of the Beatitudes from last week—Jesus says to his disciples, “You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”
Don’t you see?
God’s love—God’s light—it doesn’t belong to us.
It belongs to God.
And, God has entrusted us to share that light with the world so that others may come to know the love of God in Christ through us.
It’s like a lighthouse keeper who keeps his lamp burning at night. He doesn’t keep the lamp burning for himself. He keeps it burning for anyone who needs help finding their way back home again.
We are the light of the world—all of us, and we have the responsibility of carrying the light of Christ with us wherever we go.
Because you never know who might need a little light or a little love in their lives.
It isn’t always easy.
But, we can be comforted in knowing that God’s light can never be extinguished. It’s always with us. We’re reminded of this every time there’s a baptism at church when we light a candle from the Paschal candle and share it with the newly baptized.
The light of Christ we received in our baptism—it burns forever. We may try to hide it at times, but it never fully goes away. It’s always there—waiting for us to open our hearts so that others may see it.
We are the light of the world. So, let your light shine for all the world to see! Amen.
The Rev. Eric Mancil 