Rest in grace. Rise in compassion. Rejoice with thanksgiving.
- Rev Robert Moses
- Jun 14
- 5 min read
Lessons (Proper 6, Year A): Exodus 19:2-8a; Psalm 116:1, 10-17; Romans 5:1-8; Matthew 9:35-10:23
Beloved in Christ, on this Trinity Sunday we stand before a mystery — not a puzzle to decode, but a life to enter. The Trinity is the Church’s way of naming the God who is, at the very core, in relationship. God is not distant or solitary. God is living communion — It is God’s very being as shared life, a divine dance of mutuality, reciprocity, and joy. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are a ceaseless exchange of love.
Beloved in Christ, grace to you and peace — not as an aspiration, not as a reward, but as a reality already given.This morning, Paul, the Psalmist, and Matthew offer us a single, braided invitation: rest in grace, rise in compassion, and rejoice in the work of healing. It is a word we need in a world that is exhausted, divided, and aching for hope.
RESTING IN GRACE — THE THEOLOGICAL PASSIVE
I begin this morning with the selection from Paul’s letter to the Romans in which Paul makes an absolutely breathtaking claim: “Since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God” (ROM 5:1). “Justified” – it’s a big, churchy concept that has sometimes been used to measure out guilt and sort out shame. But this is not what “justification” is about. Justification is, quite simply, God declaring something (you, me, all of creation) righteous – not because they earned it, but because of God’s grace. At its core, justification is about God’s action, not human achievement.
“While we were still weak,” Paul continued. In other words, even as we were unable ourselves – even in our weakness — God used God’s own strength of love to declare us righteous. And then he drives it home by declaring that “while we still were sinners” God declared us righteous in Christ Jesus.
Before we were polished. Before we were productive. Before we were “enough” by the world’s standards. In a culture that tells us our worth is tied to our output (and the Roman world of Paul was no different), Paul whispers a countercultural truth: You are beloved before you lift a finger. Grace is not a prize. Grace is a place to rest. This is the ground on which the whole Christian life stands.
COMPASSION THAT MOVES — THE GOOD SHEPHERD’S HEART
Now we turn to the Gospel. Jesus looks out at the crowds — crowds who are harassed, helpless, worn down by systems that do not see them — and Matthew tells us Jesus is “moved with compassion.” The Greek word here is visceral. It means his stomach turns, his gut aches. This is not simply the emotional response of pity. This is a deep solidarity – it’s a response linked to incarnation, to being with the other in their pain and grief, their helplessness and harassment.
It is from that place – that depth of solidarity and belonging with the other – that Jesus does something wonderfully astonishing. He forms a committee to examine the problem and sets up a time to meet. No…he tells the people to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. No, of course not, Jesus doesn’t wait for the world to improve.
Jesus empowers ordinary people. And he calls the disciples by name. He sends them out with authority rooted not in hierarchy, but in healing. “Cure the sick. Raise the dead. Cleanse the leper. Cast out demons. You received without payment; give without payment.” This is not a call to spiritual heroics. It is a call to embodied compassion.
HEALING OVER HIERARCHY — PROGRESSIVE DISCIPLESHIP TODAY
So what does this look like now? We may not encounter “lepers” in the ancient sense, but we know what it is to see people pushed to the margins. We see it in the teenager who is told there’s no place for them because they’re gay or trans. We see it in families who are treated as “less than” because their love doesn’t fit someone else’s definition. We see it in the subtle ways society says, “You don’t belong here. You’re unclean. You’re other.”
And just as Jesus reached out and touched those whom the world declared untouchable, the call of discipleship today is to stand beside our LGBTQ+ siblings—to restore dignity where it has been denied, to offer belonging where there has been exclusion, and to proclaim with our lives that no one is outside the circle of God’s love.
We may not talk about “demons” the way the first century did, but we know the forces that dehumanize: the demon of racism, the demon of poverty, the demon of isolation, the demon that whispers to so many that they are unworthy of love. To “cast out demons” today is to confront the systems and stories that harm God’s people. To “cleanse the leper” is to restore those whom society has excluded. To “cure the sick” is to build communities where healing — physical, emotional, spiritual, communal — is possible.
And Jesus is clear about the method: “You received without payment; give without payment.” The work of God’s kingdom cannot be gatekept or used to enrich ourselves. It flows from the same radical grace that first embraced us.
JOY AS RESISTANCE — ENTERING THE GATES WITH GLADNESS
Jesus also knows something else: this work is hard. Justice work is exhausting. Compassion can wear us thin. This is where Psalm 100 becomes our anchor: “Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise.” This is not denial of our exhaustion or the difficulty that we face. No, indeed: This is resistance.
Gratitude is how we keep our hearts from calcifying. Joy is how we refuse to let despair have the last word. We give thanks not because the world is perfect, but because God’s mercy endures — and because joy fuels the long work of healing.
Romans gives us rest. Matthew gives us work. Psalm 100 gives us joy for the journey.
SENDING — REST, HEAL, REJOICE
So as you step into the week ahead: Rest in the grace that has already claimed you. Let go of the lie that you must earn God’s love or carry the world alone. Rise where compassion tugs at your spirit. Pay attention to the places where healing is needed — in your neighborhood, in your relationships, in your own heart. Rejoice with thanksgiving. Let joy be your resistance. Let gratitude be your strength.
Let the Spirit’s movement guide you into the work of love. For the God who justifies you, the Christ who sends you, and the Spirit who sustains you go with you — always. Amen.
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