Sermon by The Very Rev Chris Yaw, 6/7/2026
Kids in the Cadillac
2 Pentecost | Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26 | June 7, 2026
Parish Picnic
St. David’s Episcopal Church, Southfield, Michigan
One of the challenges of preaching at our annual parish picnic is that I know exactly what you're all thinking…
Some are thinking brisket.
Others are thinking Potato salad.
And not a few are wondering whether the person who made the potato salad remembered refrigeration.
So let me reassure you.
This sermon has a finish line.
And there are tasty bites on the other side.
But before we get there, I want to tell you a story.
I heard it this week.
A wealthy family spent the day at a splash park.
After a long afternoon in the sun, they climbed into their chauffeur-driven Cadillac and headed home.
As they stopped at a red light, several children approached the car asking for money.
Inside the car were three nine-year-olds sitting in the back seat.
One of them asked his uncle, who was riding in the front, if he could give the children some money.
The uncle declined.
He explained that the children were being sent out by gang members and that any money they collected would likely be used for criminal activity.
It satisfied the adults.
It did not satisfy the child.
Finally, the boy said, "When I'm older, I'm going to be rich. Then I'm going to give money to all these kids so they never have to beg again."
The uncle smiled.
He thought this was a beautiful sentiment.
A noble aspiration.
A generous dream.
Then another nine-year-old chimed in.
"Actually, that's too easy."
Too easy.
The adults turned around.
"What do you mean?"
The child said, "Giving when you're rich isn't much of a sacrifice. Real sacrifice is giving when you don't have enough."
Out of the mouths of babes.
Sometimes children say things that are so profound you wonder if God slipped them a line.
Because buried inside that comment is a truth at the very heart of faith.
Faith is acting before you have enough.
Faith is trusting before you have certainty.
Faith is believing before all the evidence is in.
And that's exactly what we find in every one of today's readings.
Abraham.
The woman with the hemorrhage.
Jairus and his daughter.
Three stories.
Three impossible situations.
Three people who refuse to let reality have the final word.
Let's start with Abraham.
God comes to Abram and says, essentially, "Leave everything familiar and follow me."
Now that's easy for us to hear because we know how the story ends.
We know Abraham becomes the father of nations.
We know generations will come from him.
We know his name will be remembered for thousands of years.
But Abraham doesn't know any of that.
All Abraham knows is that God is asking him to leave home.
Leave security.
Leave certainty.
Leave familiarity.
And head toward a future he cannot see.
That's faith.
Not certainty.
Movement.
Faith is not knowing exactly where you're going.
Faith is deciding to take the next step anyway.
The same thing happens in the Gospel.
We meet a woman who has suffered for years.
Twelve years.
Twelve years of disappointment.
Twelve years of unanswered prayers.
Twelve years of trying treatments that didn't work.
Twelve years of watching life move forward while she remained stuck.
And yet somehow she still believes.
She still hopes.
She still reaches.
She doesn't know what will happen.
She doesn't have guarantees.
She doesn't have proof.
She simply believes that healing might be possible.
And because she believes healing is possible, she pushes through the crowd and reaches for Jesus.
Then there's Jairus – his name is not mentioned here in Matthew, but it is in Mark’s longer account…
Jairus is a desperate father.
Parents understand this immediately.
There is almost nothing more painful than watching a child suffer.
Nothing makes you feel more powerless.
Nothing reveals your limitations more quickly.
Jairus has status.
Influence.
Respect.
But none of those things can save his daughter.
So he throws himself at Jesus' feet.
And that's faith too.
Faith is what happens when we finally admit we can't do everything ourselves.
Faith is what happens when we acknowledge our need.
Faith is what happens when we stop pretending we're in control.
What strikes me about all three stories is that none of these people are passive.
None of them sit around waiting.
Abraham leaves.
The woman reaches.
Jairus pleads.
All of them act.
All of them move.
All of them participate.
And I’m wondering what that’s saying to you this morning as you approach the impossible, immoveable, entrenched problems in your life?
I've always loved the old saying that God can't steer a parked car.
And today's readings are Exhibit A.
Again and again Scripture suggests that God works most powerfully through people who are willing to move.
Who are willing to risk.
Who are willing to step forward.
Who are willing to believe that something different is possible.
And that's important because we live in a world that often trains us to expect disappointment.
A world that rewards cynicism.
A world that tells us not to get our hopes up.
A world that sometimes treats faith as naivete.
But the Bible never celebrates cynicism.
Not once.
The heroes of Scripture are not the people who carefully explain why nothing can change.
The heroes of Scripture are the people who believe change is possible because God is involved.
Abraham could have stayed home.
The woman could have stayed hidden.
Jairus could have surrendered to despair.
Instead, all three choose hope.
And hope is not wishful thinking.
Hope is disciplined imagination.
Hope is the refusal to believe that today's reality is the only reality available.
Hope is the conviction that God is still working.
And frankly, I need that reminder.
Maybe you do too.
Because all of us have things we want.
Things we pray for.
Things we long to see.
Some of us want healthy bodies.
Some want meaningful relationships.
Some want financial security.
Some want healing from grief.
Some want freedom from anxiety.
Some want purpose.
Some want peace.
And many of us look at our world and wonder if we'll ever see a day when everyone has enough.
When children don't go hungry.
When people don't have to live in fear.
When kindness becomes more common than outrage.
Those dreams require faith.
Because if we're being honest, there is always evidence pointing in the opposite direction.
Abraham had evidence.
The woman had evidence.
Jairus had evidence.
The evidence said no.
Faith said maybe.
Faith said God isn't finished.
Faith said keep moving.
Keep reaching.
Keep asking.
One of the most dangerous assumptions Christians can make is that faith means sitting still and waiting for God to solve everything.
That's not biblical faith.
Biblical faith is partnership.
God acts.
People act.
God calls.
People respond.
God provides power.
People provide willingness.
It's a dance.
A collaboration.
A relationship.
And that means faith sometimes looks surprisingly practical.
Faith might mean making the phone call.
Faith might mean going to therapy.
Faith might mean applying for the job.
Faith might mean apologizing first.
Faith might mean joining the movement.
Faith might mean showing up at the meeting.
Faith might mean standing beside someone who's hurting.
Faith might mean writing the check.
Faith might mean saying yes when you're scared.
Sometimes Christians talk about faith as though it's mostly about believing certain things.
But in Scripture, faith is usually visible.
You can see it.
It's feet moving.
Hands reaching.
Voices asking.
Lives changing.
Faith has fingerprints.
Which brings me back to those children in the Cadillac.
The adults saw complexity.
The children saw possibility.
The adults explained why helping might not work.
The children imagined a different future.
Now, to be fair, adults know things children don't.
Life is complicated.
Problems are complicated.
Systems are complicated.
But sometimes adults become so realistic that we lose our imagination.
And faith requires imagination.
Faith imagines healing before healing arrives.
Faith imagines justice before justice arrives.
Faith imagines reconciliation before reconciliation arrives.
Faith imagines resurrection before resurrection arrives.
That's what Abraham did.
That's what the woman did.
That's what Jairus did.
And that's what we're called to do.
To imagine God's future while standing in the middle of today's reality.
So perhaps the invitation from today's readings is simple.
When you're fed up, stand up.
When you're worried, pray.
When you're hurting, reach out.
When you're uncertain, take the next step.
When something is broken, help repair it.
When someone is excluded, welcome them.
When someone is hungry, feed them.
When someone is lonely, find them.
Go.
Get up.
Ask.
Plead.
Serve.
Love.
Picket.
Advocate.
Forgive.
Risk.
Move.
Don't wait for perfect circumstances.
Don't wait until you have enough.
Don't wait until every question is answered.
Because faith has never depended on having enough.
Faith begins when we trust that God is enough.
And if today's readings teach us anything, it's that God has a remarkable habit of meeting people who are willing to take that first step.
Abraham takes a step and becomes a nation.
A woman reaches out and finds healing.
A father dares to hope and discovers life.
Not because they had certainty.
But because they had faith.
May we have the courage to do the same.
Amen.