By the time I was confirmed in the Methodist Church, I knew a lot of Bible, and, because the pastor who led our confirmation classes was a history buff, a good deal of church history, too.
One month into my junior year of high school and four months after my dad’s sudden death, I declared to my closest friends over school lunch mystery meat that I was quitting church, and, by extension, God.
As Christians, Saint Andrew reminds us that following Christ requires us to surrender our need for notoriety and acclaim.
Saint Andrew was a pioneer in many ways. His festival is often the first major Christian feast celebrated after the beginning of the Christian year to commemorate his status of being the “first called.”
I am the oldest of three children in my family. My two sisters are my best friends, though for many years before I came to see them that way they were also my worst enemies.
Saint Andrew shows us we do have gifts to offer within ourselves and others, however big or small, and we can bring them forward to help feed, heal and bless those around us. And like Andrew, we can hold tight to our faith that no matter what we offer, our offerings are enough for God to work with and make miracles happen in this broken world.
The frontier to which God is calling you might be as close as a relative or friend.
I imagine hesitation and maybe even resistance into this story. But my children do not.