A People Called by Grace

July Sermon Series: This Is Us

Text: 1 Peter 2:9–10

[Opening – The Name Tag Struggle]

Have you ever walked into a room and thought, “Lord, what am I even doing here?”

Folks are laughing at inside jokes you don’t know. They’ve got history—you’ve got heartburn. And there you are… gripping a little sticky name tag and a Sharpie like it’s a lifeline.

And church folks? We take it next level. Instead of just writing “Deborah,” somebody’s over here scribbling, “Beloved, Highly Favored, Daughter of Zion and CEO of Heaven’s Hospitality Ministry.”

But let me tell you something: There’s power in being known. There’s beauty in being called by name. Because when somebody sees you, really sees you… They remind you that you matter.

And family, that’s why we’re here. We’re not here because we’ve earned a seat. We’re here because grace pulled out a chair and said, “Sit down, baby—you’re home.”

Let me ask you something: When was the last time you felt like someone made room for you? Not tolerated you. Not sized you up. But genuinely welcomed you?

Because that’s what the church is supposed to be. Not a club with insiders and outsiders, but a community where God keeps expanding the table.

And if you’ve ever felt like you had to shrink yourself to fit in—this sermon is for you. If you’ve ever questioned whether you belong in church—this message is for you. If you’ve ever walked into a sanctuary and wondered if God was still calling your name—this Word is for you.

[New Pastor, New Season]

Now I know—I’m the new guy. New voice. New robe. New last name folks are still figuring out how to pronounce. You’ve got stories and saints and secret recipes you’re still deciding whether to share with me.

But hear me—this moment? It’s not just about a pastoral transition. This is a divine setup. God brought us together for a reason. You didn’t just get a new pastor. You got a new page in the story God is writing through this church.

This isn’t just about who stands behind the pulpit. This is about who we are in the pews. It’s about who we’re becoming together, and the grace that holds us as we do.

So no, I’m not here with all the answers. I’m here with a heart wide open. Because I believe God is doing something new in this place. Not flashy, not fancy, but faithful.

Sometimes God doesn’t give you a blueprint—He gives you people. People to walk with. People to wrestle with. People to grow with. So let’s not rush past the gift of this moment.

[Scripture Setup – 1 Peter 2:9–10]

“But you are a chosen people, A royal priesthood, A holy nation, God’s special possession…”

You hear that? That’s not future tense. That’s now. That’s who you are—even when you don’t feel it. Even when your prayers are dry, Your faith is frail, And your Bible app ain’t been opened since Easter.

God doesn’t wait for you to get it together. Grace calls you while you’re still falling apart.

It’s like when a parent calls their child in for dinner. They don’t wait until the kid is clean. They don’t wait until the toys are put away. They just call them by name and say, “Come inside. It’s time to be with family.”

And that’s what God’s doing with us. Not waiting on perfection. Just saying, “Come inside. You’re mine.”

Point 1: Grace Didn’t Start With You

When Peter said these words, the church wasn’t poppin’. They were scattered, stressed, and barely staying afloat. They were misunderstood, marginalized, and trying to figure out what it meant to follow Jesus in a world that didn’t always welcome that name.

But still—Peter said: “You’re chosen. You’re God’s.”

That tells me something: Grace doesn’t need your performance. It just needs your presence. You don’t have to be perfect to be claimed. You just have to be willing to let God do the claiming.

Let’s be real—too many of us were raised thinking we had to earn our way into God’s love. That if we prayed hard enough, dressed right, tithed on time, and volunteered in every ministry, then maybe we’d be holy enough. But God isn’t holding out for a better version of you—He’s already calling you by name.

Grace isn’t a reward. It’s a rescue.

And let me say it plain: St. Matthew’s—grace got here before I did. Grace is why we’re still standing. Grace is why we’ve got breath in our lungs and purpose in our pews.

Let me tell you about a friend who thought it was too late. Life had taken a toll—family strained, job lost, spirit low. But one day they stepped into church, not knowing what they were looking for—and were met by grace that said, “You’re still mine.”

What would it look like if we trusted that grace already beat us to the place we're trying to earn? What if our first step wasn’t proving ourselves—but letting grace pull us close?

Grace isn’t intimidated by our mess. In fact, that’s where it does its best work. You know what I love about grace? It’s stubborn. It doesn’t quit when we do.

That’s the grace that changes everything. The kind that meets you in a mess and calls you holy anyway. The kind that meets you in a mess and calls you holy anyway.

Point 2: We Belong to Each Other

“Once you were not a people, But now you are the people of God.”

That’s not just poetic—it’s powerful. God didn’t just save individuals; He formed a community. You ever been to a family reunion and thought, “Whew… y’all are real people.” That’s church. That’s us. We’re not gathered here because we all like the same music or vote the same way. We’re gathered because grace has stitched our lives together.

We’ve got personalities, preferences, and plenty of opinions. But what binds us is not style—it’s spirit. It’s not just shared space—it’s shared story.

You may not know everybody’s name yet. You might sit by someone who sings a little too loud or claps on the wrong beat. But baby, if God called us to the same table, Then we’ve got work to do together.

We are not spiritual roommates. We are a spiritual family. And like any real family, we will sometimes get on each other’s nerves. But we are still us. And God is still making something holy from this mess.

The beauty of church isn’t that we’re all alike—it’s that we’re all needed. You don’t have to look like me, sound like me, or think like me to be part of the body. You just have to bring your whole self and say yes to grace.

There’s someone in here today who’s wondering if they fit. Let me tell you—you don’t just fit. You’re necessary.

Let’s stop acting like this church is a performance. It’s not a stage—it’s a table. And everyone brings something to it. Some bring energy. Some bring wisdom. Some bring testimony. Some bring questions. But if we all bring something, then there’s something sacred waiting to happen.

This church isn’t whole without you. It never was meant to be.

Point 3: Your Past Ain’t the End of the Story

“Once you had not received mercy, But now you have received mercy.”

That word—mercy—that’s not just a soft word. That’s a saving word. Mercy means that God interrupted what could’ve been and offered something better instead.

Mercy means God saw what could’ve been your end… …and chose to write a new beginning.

Your past? God can use it. Your pain? God can redeem it. Your doubt? God can still work with that.

You are not your worst mistake. You are not the sum of your failures. You are a walking testimony that mercy still moves.

Think about it: the mercy that met you is the mercy God wants to use through you. So don’t count yourself out. Don’t tell God no because of a chapter God already forgave.

Some of us are sitting in pews with silent shame. We smile through worship but deep down wonder if we’ve messed up too badly. But friend—if mercy found you once, it can find you again.

God doesn’t throw away stories—He rewrites them. Mercy doesn’t just clean the slate—it gives you a pen to start again.

Maybe you’ve been told, “You’re not church material.” Maybe you’ve told yourself that. But let me tell you—church material looks like messed-up people with a miracle-working God.

And someone in here needs to hear: Your next chapter starts now. Mercy doesn’t just remember your name—it reclaims your future.

And listen—St. Matthew’s best days aren’t hanging in a picture frame in the hallway. They’re still being written… …and you’ve got a pen in your hand. So pick it up. Let’s write something beautiful. Let’s write it together.

[Closing Vision – A Welcome Mat Church]

When I pray for this church, I don’t just see a building with stained glass and bulletins. I see a place where people walk in and feel prayed for.

I see a church where strangers become siblings. Where the greeter at the door might be the one you cry with at the altar. A church that says— “You don’t have to fake it to make it. You can bring your full self… and still be fully loved.”

That’s the kind of church I want to pastor. And I believe that’s the kind of church God’s calling us to be. Not someday—but right now.

If someone walks in next Sunday looking for a lifeline—I want them to find us ready. If someone’s wrestling with shame—I want them to find us praying. If someone’s unsure if they belong—I want them to hear us say: “You already do.”

This Is Us

We are a people called by grace. We are not perfect. But we are chosen. We are not polished. But we are present. We are not strangers. We are family—formed by the hands of a gracious God.

This is St. Matthew’s. This is holy ground. This is us.

Call to Action

I want you to write down three words. Three words that describe what this church means to you. Put them on your fridge. Put them in your phone. Bring them back next week. And let’s start telling the story of who we are—together.

And if you’re brave… share those words with someone else. Let’s name who we are, so we can grow into who God is calling us to be.

Let’s give the Spirit some space to write through us. Because this story? It’s still unfolding.

Prayer

Gracious God, Thank You for calling us before we knew how to answer. Thank You for naming us when the world tried to label us. Thank You for weaving our stories into something sacred.

Make this church a place where grace is loud, Where welcome is wide, And where Your Spirit moves freely.

This is not my church. This is not just their church. This is Your church. And we trust You with what’s next.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.