Pentecost 4A 2026

THE REV. E. WAYNE ROLLINS

​ Today we have two related but different job descriptions. One is from Jeremiah, who would probably win the title of “least happy prophet” in Hebrew history. The other is Jesus’ description of what it means to be his disciple. It’s not the pleasant prayer for unity we heard recently from John’s gospel. He tops it off with words about carrying a cross and losing one’s life. Don’t trample one another rushing to be first in line. 

Jeremiah uses words I sometimes wondered out loud during seminary. “You enticed me,” he laments. His job is to tell leaders what they don’t want to hear. As a result, he is imprisoned, beaten, starved, and otherwise treated inhospitably. But he can’t walk away, because the call to proclaim truth is stronger than the urge for self-preservation, and much more relentless. A God who never sleeps finds ways to speak even when we try to catch some shut-eye. 

Jesus knows how unpopular that call can be. By nature, truth is divisive when some try to deny it because it doesn’t speak to, but against, their own purposes. And when those deniers wield power, look out. I’ve been telling congregations for years, when religion and politics share living quarters, the end result is most always a crucifixion of one kind or another. 

Jesus warns his followers that they should be more concerned about the one who can cause everlasting punishment instead of those who might inflict it for a short time. I don’t want to take Matthew’s words literally this morning; those who do seem to be able to create enough hell for all of us. 

You might be wondering about all this. A former parishioner told me he liked it when I preached from the aisle without notes. But when I turned and walked into the pulpit, he thought, “Uh oh. We’re in for it now.” 

Several years ago, writings from Ezekiel found their way into the lectionary cycle. So I decided to read it again to gain some insights and context. A verse jumped out that I cannot forget. It’s the charge given to the prophet. God says, “If you speak the words I tell you to speak and they do not listen, their sin is on them. But if you do not speak my words to them because you fear how they might react, their sin is on you.” The big gulp came along long before 7-11. 

Fear is a big motivator. Fear of punishment causes many to obey rules and regulations. Thinking that the punishment will not come causes many to consider those regulations as mere suggestions, evidence seen on the highways around us. Others consider themselves to be immune because of status or wealth, and may get away with it for awhile. I’ll refer you back to Jesus’ words heard today and remind you that there are those who sometimes make me hope there really is a hell. It’s sort of a last resort, redefining the word “resort.”
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The call to discipleship is a call to relationship with God, a relationship that transcends fear and doubt, because it invites us to join with God in the ongoing work of creating a new life even while reconciling the old life with the new by forgiving and even just letting go of what no longer gives life.

We enter that relationship each time we come within these walls. It may often seem more like a social gathering of friends, but that only touches the surface. As we listen, sing and pray, and move to receive, we somehow find ourselves called into an intimate relationship with our Creator even as we make our own call for God in Christ to enter into our own lives.

The secret to all this is that we have to be willing to let the other in. We have to allow the continuing work of creation to transform, even transfigure us in ways we could never imagine. In the words of W. H. Auden in For the Time Being, the angel Gabriel says to Mary, “You must choose him who chooses you.”

To listen to the prophet, to hear and be guided by Truth, we must first let the prophet in. We must provide hospitality to inconvenient and unpopular words that will help us find our way to new life. It’s not easy, and might even be a bit painful. But the call to new life rings out from empty tombs. We just need to risk walking into them and admit that they’re empty.

To use some prophetic words, let those who have ears to hear, listen.