The Sacrifice of Letting Go

Gospel Reading: John 15:12-17

‘This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you. I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another

Sermon by The Rev. Dr. Maryann Amor

One of the reasons returning to Edmonton is so important to me is the friendships I have there…friends I made while serving in two churches…former parishioners, colleagues, and co-workers. These are the people who understand. They are the ones I can confide in about life and ministry, they have been where I am or they are there now.

Whenever I’m in Edmonton, I always make time to visit my good friend Blake, the youth pastor at St. John the Evangelist. When I was serving as the children’s minister at St. John’s, Blake and I decided to try something different. I worked with the kids who would eventually transition into his youth group, and we saw in this an opportunity: rather than treating children’s and youth ministry as separate, we worked together, trying to make sure that what I did with the kids prepared them to enter Blake’s youth group.

Very quickly, we realized that we approached children and youth ministry in the same way. We had both seen how traditional models…where kids sit, absorb information, and recite answers…were failing. Young people already spend their entire week in school being talked at, tested, and stressed out. Then they would come to church, and we would ask them to do it all over again. Of course, they hated it and shut down.

But what if children and youth ministry wasn’t about adults feeding young people information? What if, instead, it gave them space to be themselves, to be loved for who they are, to ask real questions without fear of judgment? What if we, as leaders, recognized that they already know God deep in their hearts, and what they need isn’t instruction…but space to discover that relationship for themselves?

After all, isn’t that what faith is about? Not memorizing Bible stories or Creeds, but experiencing God’s love.

What I’ve noticed is that the church has often done more harm than good in shaping how children and youth understand God. Too often, it has given them narrow, damaging views that leave lasting wounds. I’ve met kids who came out as queer and believed God couldn’t love them. Kids who were terrified of making mistakes, convinced they were going to hell. Kids who saw faith as nothing more than rules and restrictions. And all of this breaks my heart.

Instead of encountering a God of endless love, they’ve been handed fear and shame. That’s why, at St. John’s, Blake and I worked to undo this harm. And it’s why I am committed to continuing that work here—with all of our kids.

So why am I saying all of this? Because today, as part of our Lent series, we are talking about sacrifice, a theme you’ll also explore in your take-home package. And I promise, everything I have said connects with this theme.

When we hear the word sacrifice in a Christian context, we often think of Jesus’ death. We heard in John’s Gospel: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends”. While the sacrifice of Jesus’ life on the cross reveals the depth of his love, it can feel far removed from our experiences. Most of us will never be called to literally give up our lives for another.

But what if sacrifice isn’t about laying down our physical lives? What if it’s about laying down something else? Maybe our ego? Our need to be right? Our certainty?

As Anglicans, this view of sacrifice is embedded in our tradition. We follow the via media, the middle way, which means we don’t insist on a single “right” stance on complex issues. Sitting beside you right now may be someone who sees God differently than you do…who holds different beliefs about Jesus, the resurrection, or what it means to follow Christ. And that’s okay. We don’t have to force them to believe as we do. We don’t need to argue. We are called to be humble enough to accept that we might actually learn from other, contradictory perspectives. This is the via media at work.

And so, returning to the kids—what if true sacrifice means giving up the idea that we, as adults, have all the answers? What if it means admitting that children don’t need us to teach them who God is—because they already know, deep in their souls? What if, instead of insisting they learn from us, we had the humility to learn from them.?

If we are willing to lay down our need for control, our desire to be right, our insistence on having it all figured out, we might make space for something greater. We might find that God is at work—speaking through voices we least expect.

Through the child who says, “I’m gay.”

Through the child who says, “I believe God is love, and there can’t be a hell.”

Through the child who says, “I don’t think Adam and Eve were real people.”

When Blake and I meet up, it is a blessing to be with a friend who is passionate about youth ministry, who listens to the kids, and who is willing to learn from them. Our visits make it clear to me that the sacrifice our faith calls us to make isn’t physical at all. It’s sacrificing our egos—setting aside our assumptions and our need to be right. It’s being willing to listen to those we assume know nothing, those who don’t think like we do. It’s about opening our hearts and minds to what they have to teach us. Because when we do this, when we make this kind of sacrifice, we receive what I believe is the greatest gift…seeing God in new and wonderful ways, the transformation of ourselves and our beliefs, and an increasing love for others. Amen.