"Vital and Faithful: Caring for the Wider Community"
Matthew 20:29-34
Rev. Emily Labrecque, Westmoreland UCC
July 26, 2026

[Pray.]

Do you all know about StoryCorps? It’s an independent nonprofit that shares select stories with the public through weekly broadcasts, their podcast, animated shorts, and more. StoryCorps is committed to the idea that everyone has an important story to tell and that all of those stories matter. Their mission is “to help us believe in each other by illuminating the humanity and possibility in us all – one story at a time.”

On their website, they have a section dedicated to reflections on the question, “What does [the phrase] ‘Listening is an Act of Love’ mean to you? In response, one woman named Connie wrote this:

Some years ago I was waiting at the bus stop when a young woman sat down on the bench next to me and asked when the bus would arrive. I said, “Which bus do you want?” She replied, “I don’t know.” I asked, “Where do you want to go?” She replied, “I don’t know.” and she began to cry. Then she told me she had argued with her husband, he had thrown her out of the house, and she had no place to go. I began to tell her about resources available to women in her situation, but soon realized that she already knew everything I was telling her. So I just listened. After a while my bus arrived, but I waived it on so I could listen. When she had finished her story she stood up and said, “Thank you. The hardest part of all this is that nobody wants to listen.” 

Sometimes the most loving thing we can offer isn't a solution – it is our attention. Before we can help someone, we have to hear them. And that's exactly what Jesus models in today's gospel.

Did you catch the moment of listening? These two men are sitting by the side of the road, both blind, calling out for help. The crowd wanted the men to be quieter.
The crowd assumes they know what's best: "Be quiet, we want to hear Jesus.”
But Jesus says, "Come here."
The crowd sees a disruption.
Jesus sees beloved children of God.

Jesus wants them to be heard, so he calls to them and asks, “What do you want me to do for you?” This is a profound question at the moment because Jesus doesn’t make any assumptions. He knows they’re blind. But he doesn’t let the crowd define them. He doesn’t even let their condition define them. He honors their dignity by letting them speak for themselves.

Now, knowing these men were blind, they also likely didn’t have jobs, were maybe outcast from their families, and looking disheveled. Jesus, or the disciples, could have easily handed over some food and tunics to help fix the most apparent problems. But these men didn’t express a desire for their material needs to be addressed. Instead, they dared to ask Jesus for something so personal, something that impacted their life as a whole. Food and water and some clothing would have been great, but no, they wanted to see. And so Jesus, moved with compassion, touched their eyes and they opened.

Matthew’s gospel is rife with these moments. Jesus not only sees, but hears the needs of the people and is moved with compassion to take action.That is where Christian service begins, afterall – not with programs, but with compassion. Compassion born from listening. Every meaningful ministry starts because someone paid attention long enough to hear another person's pain. And so we have stepped up and into programs like Wheaton Woods Food Distribution, So Others May Eat, RISE up for Hunger, and more. And these are all worthy and valuable causes, to be sure.

And none of those organizations are located in our neighborhood. One of the things we know about vital churches is that they are rooted in their local community. They know their neighbors in their immediate vicinity. Now, you might think, but we are located in Bethesda, on the border of DC, in a very wealthy area. There aren’t any “real” needs here.

We often think of needs as material needs. Food, clean water, clothing, etc. And those needs do exist. But I want to shift our language, our mental model, to focus more broadly to consider “Life Concerns.” Because no matter our status, class, race, gender/sexuality, there are other concerns we all have. Understanding these concerns help us become better neighbors to our neighbors.

A few years back I was trained in a program called MissionInsite, which uses census and survey data to help churches understand the real concerns of the people in their neighborhood. I ran the numbers for the one-mile radius around Westmoreland – the neighbors we could walk or drive to easily. Here's what I found.

Within that one mile radius, here are the top four life concerns people have. People in our neighborhood are really concerned about social and political discord, they have fear of the future or the unknown, they may be wealthy, but there are day to day financial matters that are concerning to them, and finally health crises and illness. What that looks like in more detailed terms means: people are increasingly concerned about caring for aging parents; despite the wealth in our area, people are still anxious about the daily financial stuff of life – whether that's making ends meet or holding onto what they've built; meanwhile, the social/political discord has left a record number of government employees without jobs or forced into early retirement.

Let’s picture that:
Behind the beautiful homes are parents raising teenagers while wondering if Mom can still live alone.
Families wondering when the next shutdown might cost them a job.
You can't see those burdens from the sidewalk.

And, we might not really know any of that, if we don’t actually listen to our neighbors. The people walking by the blind men might not have known they were blind. They may have just mistaken them for filthy beggars on the street. But had they sat, like Connie at the bus bench, and listened, they would have learned that the key to helping them live healthy, whole, and thriving lives, was no longer being blind. That change would help them unlock a whole different life for themselves; would help them find meaningful work, reconnect with community, and finally feel like they belonged, like they weren’t so alone in the world.

That’s all our neighbors want too, to be truly known, not just materially provided for. And as followers of Jesus, as Westmorelanders, we know how to help people feel like they belong. Now it’s up to us to reach out to our neighbors, to truly listen to their expressed needs.

Maybe listening looks like lingering after school pickup instead of rushing home.
Maybe it means finally learning the name of the neighbor whose dog you see every morning.
Maybe it means asking someone, "How are you really doing?" and waiting for the answer.
Maybe it means missing your bus because someone needs to tell their story.

Connie said the woman at the bus stop told her, "The hardest part of all this is that nobody wants to listen." I wonder how many people within one mile of this sanctuary could say exactly the same thing. Friends, the church cannot solve every problem in our neighborhood. But we can become a people who listen. We can become a people who ask, as Jesus asked, "What do you want me to do for you?" And when we listen long enough, we may discover that God has already placed us exactly where compassion can begin.

Amen.