No Better Time - Exodus 12:1-14; Romans 13:8-14; Matthew 18:15-20

Good morning! What a lovely, busy, and exciting morning here at Christ Church. I love kick-off Sunday. Perhaps it’s because genetically, I’m half baptist on my mother’s side, but the southern American practice of homecoming Sunday just speaks to me. We don’t use that language here in the Episcopal Church, but the sentiment is the same. Today we’re celebrating the beginning of another year of programming, worship, and formation, and we’re celebrating being reunited with our church family, whom we typically see less often during the summer months. We’re celebrating our shared life of faith. A homecoming, indeed. 

Now, I can’t be sure whether or not the creators of the Revised Common Lectionary had back-to-school season, fall programming, or kick-off Sundays in mind, but the Holy Spirit must have, because our scripture passages came to play today. The old testament lesson includes instructions from God about an annual celebration - a little on the nose, but we’ll take it. Our passage from Romans explains that all the rules and guidelines we live by can be summarized by the phrase, “love your neighbor” - a great reminder. Then our Gospel passage comes in hot with step by step directions for reconciliation after disagreement. 

These are three lessons we would do well to take with us into this new season at Christ Church, so let’s dive right in. Don’t tell Ragan, but I sometimes struggle with Paul’s letter to the Romans. Not today. Today I think Paul is tapping into an essential and quite accessible truth that is at the heart of our faith. You know the rules, Paul says, and you also know that they all come down to this: love each other. 

These are not unfamiliar words. Jesus repeats them all the time in the Gospels. It’s what Paul says next that I love. “Besides this, you know what time it is.” What are you waiting for, he asks. Start now. There’s no better time. This is good counsel for kick-off Sunday. Have you been contemplating a new ministry? Maybe today is your day. Have you been meaning to check in on the person who sits on the pew in front of you? Wait no longer. Have you been thinking about inviting a friend to church? Perhaps the time is now. 

Many of us are reveling in Paul’s words today. The church is full, the parish hall already smells delicious, and we are glad to be with so many of our friends. It feels obvious and natural: we should love one another. This is how we were meant to live in community. However, and I hate to be the bearer of bad news, the joy and camaraderie we feel on days like today won’t last forever. We’re going to get cranky. Daylight savings might make us moody. Maybe your kid will bring home a stomach bug and throw a wrench in your week. Somebody will say something really irritating in Sunday school. Waking up on Sunday might be really hard. That last one was mostly for me.

I am eternally grateful for today’s Gospel passage, in which Jesus gives us delightfully specific instructions about how to deal with conflict in the community of faith. As it turns out, even though avoidance seems to be the most popular way to respond these days, it’s not what Jesus recommends. Be direct, but private, he says. Show your neighbor respect through honesty and confidentiality, not passive, public politeness. Ask for help if you need it. That’s what spiritual leaders are for. And remember, you are not alone. God is present among all gatherings of God’s people, large or small, in peace and in conflict. 

This is another excellent lesson for kick-off Sunday. So far we have love each other, go ahead and do it today, and when that gets tough, face the conflict head on, keeping God at the center of the relationship. You might be thinking, those instructions feel simple enough, we should have no problem remembering them, right? And to that I would say, have you ever met a human? Remembering God’s instructions has never been our strong suit.

In order to find strength for remembering, for steadfastness and endurance, we need the most ancient wisdom of our faith. We need to head back to the Hebrew Scriptures, to the Exodus. Today’s passage tells the story of the first Passover, when God told Moses, who in turn told the Hebrew people, how to sacrifice a lamb, how to eat the lamb, and how to mark their doorways with its blood, so that they might be spared the death of their children. We will hear this story again on Maundy Thursday, because it is a precursor of the Last Supper. But I love that we hear it today, too. God is telling the people that the way to enter into their deliverance is through an intentional, communal practice. It’s through ritual. That’s something we Episcopalians know a thing or two about.

But there’s more. God says that once the people are delivered and free to live as a community of faith once more, they’ll need to do this ritual every single year so that they don’t forget who delivered them and who is the source of their freedom. For those of us raised in a Christian home or community, or frankly anyone who lives in America in 2023, it might seem absurd to think that we could possibly forget about God. But we do. 

We forget about how much God loves us, and we start feeling shame and regret and self-doubt. We forget what God has freed us from, and we spend all our energy trying to earn our place in the world. We forget how much we need God and we drive ourselves to exhaustion trying to control every aspect of our lives. And when we forget about God, we forget how to love, and disagree with, our neighbors.

That, my friends, is why the ritual is important. That’s why the Hebrew people passed down the observance of the Passover, and it’s why we gather together as often as we can to hear scripture together and say prayers together and come to that altar rail to practice neighborliness and be fed together. We may not be moved by the power of the Spirit every single time we step through those red doors, but we do it anyway, because that is how we remember who we are and who God is.

It is a comfort, on this most joyful day, to know that even as we move through the messy, beautiful, hard work of being in community, we need not fear surprise or disagreement or conflict. Because we have a way forward. We have a little encouraging push from Paul to get to work. We have all kinds of guidelines for how to love each other, and we even have some steps for reconciliation when we need them. Most of all, we have our worship to ground us in the faith and keep us from forgetting to whom we belong: to God and to one another. So this fall, as we do every fall, we recommit to this place, to each other, and to our common worship. There’s no better time. Amen.