Genesis 18:1-15 (21-27); Psalm 116:1,10-17; Romans 5:1-8; Matthew 9:35-10:8(9-23)
The Rev. Candice B. Frazer
Some of you may remember Banshee—or “Church Dog,” as many called her. She was a Catahoula-hound mix who loved coming to church with me, getting treats, barking at boats in the bay at Orange Beach, going for runs, and just about anything that had to do with being a dog. She wanted to be the dominant dog in our household, which created some tension when she was younger because she constantly challenged Buttercup, one of our basset hounds, for the position of pack leader. Buttercup was several years older than Banshee, so when she died, Banshee assumed the role of alpha dog with very little resistance from the rest of the pack.
When the Tweedles—Archibald and Petunia—came to live with us as puppies, Banshee immediately took charge of orienting them to the household. She was about thirteen years old at the time and had begun to slow down, but the puppies gave her new life and renewed vigor. Suddenly she had more energy, more initiative, and a clear sense of purpose. She established the pecking order quickly and began teaching the two newcomers how to behave. They learned to take their cues from her and to recognize the boundaries of the pack.
One afternoon the four dogs and I were in the backyard while Banshee walked the perimeter. Archie and Tuni followed closely behind her. Whenever she stopped to sniff something, they stopped too—until Archie didn’t. He walked right into her back legs and she snapped at him, taking his entire head into her mouth while he screamed bloody murder.
Naturally, I panicked. I yelled at Banshee to let him go, which she willingly—though begrudgingly—did. Archie came tearing across the yard yelping the whole way and leapt into my arms. He was still a baby, maybe seven or eight weeks old. I immediately checked him over. His head and neck were completely dry. Banshee may have had him in her mouth, but she had never applied more pressure than necessary.
I had noticed before that Banshee occasionally snapped at Archie, though rarely at Petunia. In that moment I realized why. Archie simply did not pay attention the way his sister did. Petunia practically worshipped Banshee and mirrored everything she did. But Archie wandered through life with his head in the clouds, oblivious to boundaries, and it had finally caught up with him. Banshee had decided he needed to learn.
Archie was perfectly fine—not even a drop of drool on him. Banshee, however, was clearly annoyed. I could see it in her eyes. I had interrupted the lesson and babied her little charge. I apologized to her profusely, gave everyone treats to settle things down, and allowed the training to resume.
But something changed after that moment. Archie became more attentive. He kept a respectful eye on Banshee and never overstepped his bounds with her again for the rest of her life. He had learned what it meant to belong to the pack.
And Banshee changed too. Once she knew Archie understood the rhythms and boundaries of the community, she relaxed with him. Her guard came down. Interestingly, Banshee had also established Petunia as her heir apparent. After Banshee died, Petunia slipped easily into the role of alpha dog and has maintained a remarkably healthy pack ever since.
As I reflected on today’s Gospel from Matthew, I realized Banshee understood something important about forming community. Jesus gathers the disciples and then sends them into the world to proclaim that the kingdom of heaven has come near. But before he sends them, he forms them. He teaches them. He empowers them. There is a movement in this Gospel that feels deeply important for the Church right now: invite, engage, empower.
Jesus begins by inviting people into the nearness of the kingdom. Matthew tells us that Jesus traveled through cities and villages teaching, proclaiming good news, and healing every disease and sickness. He saw the crowds and had compassion for them because they were “harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” Compassion is where mission begins.
Jesus does not look at the crowds and see problems to solve or enemies to defeat. He sees beloved people who are weary, vulnerable, and searching for meaning. So he invites them into something new. He invites them into relationship, healing, mercy, and belonging. The Church is called to do the same.
Part of our work as Christians is simply learning how to invite people into the life of God. Sometimes we make evangelism far more complicated than it needs to be. Often it begins with simple acts of invitation: Come and see. Come and pray. Come and eat. Come and serve. Come and belong.
Abraham and Sarah do precisely that in Genesis. Three strangers appear near the tent, and Abraham runs to greet them. He offers water, food, rest, and hospitality. Before he fully understands who they are, he makes space for them. And in the process, Abraham discovers that God is present in the encounter.
Invitation creates the possibility for holy encounter. But invitation alone is not enough. Jesus does not simply gather disciples and leave them unchanged. He engages them. He teaches them how to live differently. He draws them into practices and relationships that shape them over time.
That is exactly what Banshee was doing with Archie and Petunia. She did not merely allow them into the pack. She engaged them in the life of the pack. She taught them the rhythms, boundaries, instincts, and expectations that allowed the community to function in healthy ways. And importantly, she understood that Archie and Petunia needed different things. Petunia learned primarily by imitation. Archie needed stronger correction because Archie lived his life one distracted thought away from catastrophe. Honestly, some of us are probably more Archie than Petunia.
Christian formation works much the same way. Once people are invited into the life of the Church, we help them engage more deeply with the life of discipleship. We pray together. Worship together. Study scripture together. Serve together. Learn together. We teach one another what it means to follow Jesus—not perfectly, but faithfully. Healthy churches do not merely attract people; they form people. And ultimately, just as Jesus does, they empower people.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus gives the disciples authority to heal, proclaim good news, cast out unclean spirits, and participate in his ministry. He sends ordinary people to do extraordinary things in the name of love. The disciples are not fully polished or perfected when Jesus sends them. They are still learning. They will still make mistakes. But Jesus trusts them enough to share the work. That is how the kingdom grows.
Banshee eventually empowered Petunia to become the next alpha dog. Somewhere along the way, Petunia stopped merely following Banshee and began embodying what she had learned from her. And now, honestly, Petunia runs the household with remarkable competence. Archie still mostly just creates chaos and moral support, but even he learned how to live within the health of the community.
The goal of Christian community is not simply attendance. It is transformation. We invite people into relationship with Christ. We engage them in the life and practices of faith. And then we empower them to participate in God’s mission in the world. That is what Jesus is doing in Matthew’s Gospel. And I believe that is part of our calling at Ascension too.
We are called to become a community that invites generously, engages intentionally, and empowers faithfully. A church where people discover that they are not merely consumers of religious goods and services, but beloved participants in the kingdom of God.
Because the kingdom of heaven has come near. And when we realize that, we cannot help but invite, engage, and empower others.Though hopefully without putting their entire head into your mouth.
Amen