June 14, 2026, The Third Sunday after Pentecost
At the Annual Church Picnic
Today we gather around Word and Sacrament—and around picnic tables, lawn chairs, hamburgers, salads, and friendship. This parish picnic is our end‑of‑year pause: a time to give thanks for what God has done among us, to rest before summer deepens, and to celebrate the ordinary joys that bind us together.
In Genesis, Abraham and Sarah welcome three mysterious visitors beneath the oaks of Mamre. Abraham prepares a lavish meal; the strangers sit at the table while he serves. In the midst of hospitality comes an astonishing promise: Sarah, long past childbearing, will bear a son. She laughs—not from humor but from disbelief, from a life shaped by dashed hopes. God answers with a question that still rings for us: “Is anything too wonderful for the Lord?”
By chapter 21 the promise is fulfilled. Isaac is born; Sarah’s laughter of doubt becomes laughter of joy. The story reminds us that God keeps promises, often in ways we cannot imagine. It also shows how hospitality and encounter can become the setting for God’s surprising work.
When I look at our parish family, I hear that same promise addressed to us. This year has been full. We worshipped with beauty and depth—the Advent Procession, Holy Week, and weekly liturgies that formed and sustained us. We did not merely attend services; we were shaped and transformed by them.
We also lived our faith outwardly. Last summer, The Breakfast Club fed bodies and spirits. Volunteers continue serve quietly and faithfully in big and small ways. We are launching a music summer camp that will open our doors to children and families. These are not programs only; they are signs of God’s kingdom—evidence that the Gospel is something we do, not only something we hear.
This year has been a year of celebration. The Black Excellence Dinner brought together food and fellowship that stretched our palates. Our ongoing centennial events honoring generations of faithful parishioners who called All Saints home. We had an Art Show revealing our creativity, and next week we will celebrate all the weddings that marked love stories beneath our roof. Each event is a thread in the tapestry of our life together, showing God’s faithfulness in small and large ways.
By Andrei Rublev - From here., Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=54421
On the bulletin cover is Andrei Rublev’s icon of the Trinity. At first, it recalls Abraham’s three visitors; deeper still, it invites us into the life of God. Notice the circle of communion and the open space at the table’s front. There is a seat left empty—a place reserved for you. The icon calls us not to be spectators but participants in the divine hospitality God offers.
Imagine sitting there for a moment. What would it mean to accept that invitation? To take your place not as a consumer of worship but as a co‑laborer in God’s work? The icon asks us to see the table as both gift and task: we are welcomed, and we are sent.
Summer brings rest: vacations, family time, long evenings. Rest is holy; God rested on the seventh day. Use this season to breathe, reconnect, and let your soul be refreshed. Take time to read, to walk, to pray, to listen.
But rest is also preparation. Summer is a time to listen for God’s next call. September will come with a new program year, fresh opportunities, and new people through our doors. God’s work among us continues, and we will be invited again to trust the promise.
The question we can reflect on this summer is this: Where is your place at this table? Perhaps it is in worship, outreach, hospitality, music, teaching, welcoming newcomers, or praying faithfully. Perhaps it is in imagining ministries we have not yet dreamed. Whatever your gift, the invitation stands: take your seat and join the story God is writing here through us.
Sarah laughed because she thought the future was fixed by her limitations. God showed her otherwise. The future belongs not to our doubts but to God’s possibilities. When we accept the invitation to participate—when we offer our time, our talents, our presence—we become part of the promise being fulfilled.
So enjoy the picnic. Give thanks for the year that has been. Rest well this summer. And listen for God’s invitation. The same God who fulfilled the promise to Sarah, who has guided this parish for more than a century, and who has blessed us this year is not finished with us yet. There is a place for you at the table, and when we take our seat and join the divine drama, we may discover once again that nothing is too wonderful for the Lord.
Amen.

