Sept. 7, 2025 Yr C
Sermon for the Twelfth Sunday after the Pentecost
St. Mary’s Barnstable
The Rev’d Michael J. Horvath
Gospel: Luke 14:25–33

So, Jesus has a big crowd following him around. That’s how today’s Gospel starts: “Now large crowds were traveling with him.” A big crowd means momentum, energy, attention. It’s like the ancient equivalent of going viral.

But what does Jesus do when he has a big crowd? He doesn’t say, “Welcome, everyone! So glad you’re here! Don’t forget to fill out the visitor card!” No. Jesus looks at the crowd and says something like: “Great. Now unless you hate your mom, your dad, your spouse, your kids, and even your own life, you can’t be my disciple.”

That’s a bold church-growth strategy.

Honestly, if I said that to you all this morning – especially on Homecoming Sunday – I’d probably be out of a job by next week. Imagine the ad: “Come to St. Mary’s! Where you can learn to hate your family and maybe your life, too!” Not exactly what you put on the sandwich board out on Route 6A.

But Jesus isn’t actually telling us to despise the people we love. He’s telling us that discipleship is not a casual hobby. It’s not about following the crowd and hanging around the edges. It’s about commitment.

“Llarge crowds were traveling with him.” Notice that word: traveling. They’re moving along, curious, tagging behind Jesus like groupies at a concert. They want to see the miracles, hear the teachings, maybe get a free lunch of loaves and fishes.

But Jesus isn’t interested in crowds. Jesus wants a community.

A crowd is easy to gather. It’s like the Cape in the summer – you can draw a crowd with a beach, some lobsters, and good parking. But community? That’s different. Community means sticking around long enough to know each other’s names. It means showing up when somebody’s sick. It means forgiving each other, even after we’ve ticked each other off for the fifteenth time.

Community is harder. And Community costs something.

And that’s exactly Jesus’ point.

Jesus says, “Which of you, intending to build a tower, doesn’t first sit down and estimate the cost?”

In other words, don’t just get swept up in the excitement of the crowd. Think about what it means to actually build something. To invest. To commit.

He is saying: following me isn’t just waving palm branches on Palm Sunday and then ghosting us on Good Friday. It’s going to take something out of you.

And yet here’s the paradox – the cost is real, but the payoff is life itself.

Because when you move from crowd to community, you stop being just a spectator of the Gospel, and you become part of it. You stop asking, “What can I get out of this?”, “How can I get the kind of liturgy or music I want?” and you start asking, “What can I give? What can I build? How can I love?”

And that’s when life gets rich. That’s when we actually taste what Jesus call abundant life.

That’s why Homecoming Sunday is such a wonderful way mark coming back together after summer. It’s a celebration that is quite common in lots of churches, and, at it’s core is a function of welcome and hospitality. It’s not just a date on the calendar. It’s an invitation. An invitation to stop being a spectator in the crowd and to step into community.

For those of you who’ve been here for years – decades, even – you’ve already counted the cost. You’ve pledged, you’ve cooked casseroles, you’ve chaired committees, you’ve weathered clergy and staff transitions. You know this isn’t a spectator sport.

And for those of you who are new, or maybe just testing the waters: hear this. You are not just welcome in this crowd – you are invited into this community. You don’t have to have it all figured out. You don’t need perfect faith. You just need to be willing to walk with us, to bring your story, your gifts, even your messiness, into this family of faith.

That’s why Jesus says those shocking words about “hating father and mother.” He’s not saying abandon your family. He’s saying, when you follow me, your family gets bigger. Your circle gets wider. You don’t lose your people – you gain people.

That’s what the church is. It’s the family God gives us to travel with. And honestly, some of us are weird cousins, some of us are cranky uncles, but we belong to each other.

And the truth is, we need each other. Because life is too hard, too fragile, too short to try to do it solo.

Now, let’s be real: community is not always easy. If you think joining a church means suddenly everyone will get along perfectly, let me burst that bubble. Churches are messy. We argue about budgets. We debate over which hymns to sing. Somebody always bemoans not having coffee during lemonade on the lawn season.

But I also think that that’s how you know it’s real. Real families ague about silly things and then still show up to drive you to your next doctor’s appointment.

That’s what Jesus is asking for – not perfection, but presence. Not polish, but persistence.

So, what does this mean for us here at St. Mary’s on Homecoming Sunday?

It means Jesus is asking us to move from being just a crowd that gathers on Sunday morning to being a community that actually lives life together.

That might mean committing to come regularly to church on Sndays, not just when it’s convenient. It might mean joining a Bible study or small group, so people can get to actually know you and your story. It might mean volunteering for something that doesn’t thrill you but makes this place stronger. It might mean giving financially in a way that feels like sacrifice.

Because community doesn’t build itself. Towers don’t build themselves. Churches don’t build themselves. It takes all of us.

But don’t hear this as a guilt trip. Hear it as invitation. Because while discipleship costs something, the gift, the return on investment, is joy.

This is where the party is. This is where the healing happens. This is where the Spirit shows up – in the messy, imperfect, faithful community that gathers around bread and wine and hears Jesus say, “This is my body, this is my blood, this is for you.”

That’s not something you get on your own. That’s something you get together.

So today, on Homecoming Sunday, I want you to picture Jesus turning to the crowd—not to scare us off, not to thin the herd, but to invite us deeper. To say, “Don’t just travel with me. Build with me. Don’t just watch from the sidelines. Join the family. Count the cost, yes – but then discover the gift of real community.”

Because in the end, what Jesus is saying is this: crowds come and go, but community lasts. And when you take the risk to move from the crowd into community, you’ll find that you’re not just following Jesus – you’re walking with friends, with saints, with a family that’s bigger than you ever imagined.

And that, beloved, is worth everything.

Amen.