Sermon for the Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost (September 1, 2024)

Epistle: James 1:17-27

If you were to spend time perusing the bookshelves at my house or swiping through the digital book apps on my iPad, you’d likely notice several books scattered or downloaded here or there about great engineering marvels.

There’s one by Stephen Ambrose, Nothing Like It in the World, on the design and construction of the transcontinental railroad. One of my personal favorites is David McCullough’s The Great Bridge, the majestic history of John and Washington Roebling and the building of the Brooklyn Bridge. There’s a book about the first-ever, 852-foot, 59-second flight by the Wright brothers at Kitty Hawk. I’ve downloaded a volume on the building of the Hoover Dam and one on the construction of the Golden Gate Bridge. And somewhere in the boxes in our basement are histories of the Empire State and Chrysler Buildings in New York.

I’m utterly fascinated by the engineering, design, and construction of marvels like the ones I just listed. In large part it’s because I have so much admiration for the men and women who have been blessed with the extraordinary gifts and abilities needed to build incredible skyscrapers, soar among the clouds, and venture into the stars – gifts I most assuredly don’t possess. I can hardly drive a nail straight into a board or build a house out of playing cards, and I’ve no doubt that the residents of San Francisco and New York and all those who fly aircraft or soar into outer space would be grateful that I wasn’t involved in any of those things.

But while I wasn’t called to any of those things, while I wasn’t gifted with those sets of skills, I have nonetheless been called to use the gifts I do have to serve as a different type of engineer. In truth, we’ve all been called in our own ways to be engineers … builders … creators. As we just heard in the Epistle of James, we have been tasked by God to be doers – not simply to see things that should be done or to listen about things that are needed but to get out and do something to address those needs.

Those who looked at the East River or the vast expanses of the American landscape, who looked up at the sky and gazed out at the stars, saw something to be done or a challenge to be met and they rose up and did it. They dreamed big and built bigger; they set out to take small steps to change the world and in doing so they made history.

I think this passage from James is an excellent one to keep in mind as in the coming weeks as we enter our season of stewardship. Later this month and continuing through to the end of the year, each one of us will consider how we can be dreamers … engineers … builders. We’ll have time to ponder the dreams we have for this church and how we continue building it up. In the weeks ahead, our stewardship campaign will challenge us to look anew through the lenses of time, talent, and treasure to see where we can build bridges, what expanses we can cross, and what we can do to help this community and the world around us to soar just a bit higher.

I’ll interject to say here as well that for me, stewardship isn’t just something to be considered or concluded in a single season. Stewardship isn’t and shouldn’t be bound by calendars or deadlines. Stewardship of our gifts and abilities … our consideration of what we can offer in a range of areas … is timeless. There are practical considerations, of course. A budget for instance has a deadline for completion. But what we offer … what we dream … is an ongoing process of discernment and discovery.

Again, it’s more than just dreaming or considering; as James reminds us, it’s doing. We should always be looking for ways to do a bit more. The work of God in creation yielded first fruits, which in Hebrew tradition is the first share of the annual harvest brought to be shared as an offering. We are those first fruits. Now it’s time for us to plant and reap a harvest and offer our first fruits back to God. God has given us the gifts and the tools to work in the world, and it’s up to us to continue doing that work. We’ll each discern how best to do that in the coming year … how we’ll each use that with which we’ve been blessed.

While we may share a common vision, I don’t doubt that there will be different ideas on how to accomplish that vision … of how to build our dreams for this parish into reality. Different opportunities and yes, even different challenges, will hold different appeal for us. But in setting our minds to being doers, those opportunities and challenges will allow us opportunities to share.

They will give us opportunities to be gift givers.

In building the Brooklyn Bridge, the Roeblings gave the residents of two boroughs in New York City the gift of an easier life by being able to cross the East River in a shorter amount of time. The transcontinental railroad gave Americans the gift of being able to travel from coast to coast not in weeks or months, but in days. Wilbur and Orville Wright and that first brief flight gave us the gift of no longer having to be bound to the earth but instead being able to in the words of the sonnet by John McGee “[slip] the surly bonds of earth and [dance] the skies on laughter-silvered wings.”[1]

In whatever we design, in whatever we build, in whatever we do, we’ll be making gifts of ourselves – of our time, our talent, and our treasure. In whatever we offer and however much we commit to doing, we will be blessed. As James has written, doers who act will be blessed in their doing.

May each of you be blessed in your prayers and discernment, in your giving, and in your doing.

Amen.


[1] John Gillespie Magee, Jr. “High Flight.” http://www.arlingtoncemetery.net/highflig.htm