Sermon by Pr. Craig Mueller on the Ninth Sunday after Pentecost + Sunday, August 10, 2025.

Do something every day that scares you. I remember hearing this piece of wisdom once. It sounds like good advice, but quite honestly, it kind of scares me even to think about doing something that scares me every day.

After all, we each have our own comfort zone—the place or the state of being that is familiar, where we can be in control, as much as possible, over our environment. If we stay within our comfort zone, we can at least try to manage stress and anxiety. Well, try!

When we were in Colorado last month we visited my parents in their assisted living facility in Aurora. As we were eating dinner in the dining room, I noticed a nearby table of four elderly women. Occasionally one of them would say something, but most of the time they were quiet. Very little conversation was happening. It made me kind of sad.

I thought to myself, they need a facilitator to help get the conversation flowing. That’s what I do when I lead groups. I should go over and talk to them, I thought, to cheer them up. And then I thought how weird that would be. Sure, when I’m a pastor or a teacher, it is easy for me to turn on my extrovert switch. But my parents reminded me how bashful (such an old-fashioned word) my brother and I were as young boys. And when I’m in a large group or at a party and I don’t know anyone, and I have no role, my default setting is to revert to my kind of bashful self. It’s my comfort zone.

Nonetheless, I said to Ernest: should I go talk to those women? Sure, he said. I took a deep breath. Got of my chair. Got out of my comfort zone. I got up, walked over, sat at their table, and started up a conversation. It went well. And the energy at the table changed. A few of the women even lit up. Later I introduced my parents to them.

Now this is a very, very small example of getting out of one’s comfort zone. If there is anyone in the Bible who is an exemplar of taking risks, it is Abraham, our father in faith. Abraham receives a call from God to leave his family, to leave the familiar, and start walking into an unknown future.

Most of the time we are on auto-pilot. Or in a rut. When we’re too comfortable, too secure, too much in control, there isn’t the same need to trust God. But sometimes . . . a voice within, an external invitation, challenge or circumstance bids us to leave the familiar. And to start walking.

Of course, the risks are many. The cost is high. The leaving can be literal or figurative. But like the journey of Sarah and Abraham, it will be life-changing. One author suggests that like Abraham, we are never as alive as when we take a leap of faith. Or in the words of Eleanor Roosevelt: courage is doing what you think you cannot do.

This leads to classic definition of faith in Hebrews. Anybody ever memorize this verse? Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

That’s the point. We don’t know the outcome. We can’t see it. We can’t know the future. We don’t know where we’re going. Yet Abraham goes. I don’t know about you, but I would at least, doubt, resist, kick and scream, and maybe even whine, yet Abraham simply obeys God and leaves the familiar. Knowing he would receive an inheritance, he sets out, as Hebrews states, in one of my favorite phrases in the Bible, “not knowing where he was going.” One writer says it well: “Abraham doesn’t believe in God; he believes God. He doesn’t ask for proof; he provides the proof.” (Feiler)

I don’t know if I could do that. Just follow the call of God and start walking. I think I would choose to stay in my own little warm, cozy comfort zone.

Joseph Campbell is known for his work on “the hero’s journey.” In mythology, the hero leaves a place of comfort, faces challenges and transformations, and returns home changed. Heroes have a thousand faces, Campbell writes, and one of them is yours. It is understandable that we choose to stay put because the loss, the cost of leaving—a place, a person, a vocation, a habit, a toxic relationship, an unhealthy religion, a way of life—is so great. Yet Campbell goes on to say that when we evolve from psychological immaturity to the courage of a new self, there is a death and resurrection. A part of us dies in the going, one writer adds. We must let go of a past version of ourselves to become the person waiting for us on the other side. (Budde) Like Abraham and Sarah, we will take on a new identity. Perhaps even a new calling.

And ultimately, it’s about generativity. On the literal level, Abraham and Sarah have no heirs. But this story is about more than having children and descendants as numerous as the stars. It is about a journey that leads to generativity. According to the work of psychologist, Dan McAdams, a member of Holy Trinity, to be generative is to be committed to the well-being of future generations. It involves passing life on—nurturing, mentoring, creating, and contributing to society in ways that benefit those who come after us. 

Sometimes getting out of our comfort zone is about taking stands—against corruption and hatred; for racial justice; on behalf of those starving in Gaza and the future of the Palestinian people.

The journey of faith is leaving your comfort zone and taking risks. Jesus challenges his disciples with the impossible—to risk all for God. Do not be afraid, little flock, he says. It is your Father’s pleasure to give you the kingdom—true treasure, abundant life. Of course, we will face fear when we let go. Yet when we move from fear to trust, what we consider treasure shifts.

So be dressed for action. Ready to go. With your lamps lit. Be open. Be ready to meet Christ, to meet the Divine Surprise on the exciting journey of faith. For Christ comes in the most unexpected times and places. Especially in the poor and those in need. Especially in surrender. In loss. In dying and the rising.

One beloved prayer invites us to trust God who calls us to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, through paths untrodden, and perils unknown. Give us faith, we pray, to go out, like Abraham, not knowing where we go. But only that the hand of God is leading and divine love supporting us. Amen 

Dear people of God, you are not alone as you journey. Come to this table to find the strength to leave your comfort zone. And then journey, by faith, into the future to which is God calling you. Amen.

SOURCES

Mariann Edgar Budde, How We Learn to Be Brave: Decisive Moments in Life and Faith, chapter one, “Deciding to go,” pp. 2-20.

 Bruce Feiler, Abraham: A Journey to the Heart of Three Faiths, pp. 36-53.