Sermon: If You Want to Make God Laugh...

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If You Want to Make God Laugh...

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With so many transitions happening in my life lately, I’ve found myself feeling nostalgic. As I finish seminary and wrap up my time here, I can’t help but look back. Just a few weeks ago, I listened to the first sermon I preached here three summers ago, when I had just begun discerning a call to the priesthood. I shared a bit of my story and said that if you’d told younger Nicole, who sensed a call to ministry more than twenty years ago in a very different context, that she’d be preaching in an Episcopal church, she wouldn’t have believed it.

Most of us know that feeling when life doesn’t turn out the way we expected. In fact, if everything has gone exactly as you planned, come see me after. I’d love to know your secret.

Last week, Father Winston quoted the well-known philosopher Tina Turner for you. Today, I bring you wisdom from theologian Woody Allen, who made popular his take on an old Yiddish proverb: "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans."

That’s been my life in near comedy-of-error proportions. Every time I’ve spoken my plans out loud; it seems the opposite happens. When I was accepted to seminary in New Orleans, I told my mom there was no way I’d live in Mississippi and commute like many people did. A few weeks later, I got a job offer at a church in…you guessed it, Gulfport, Mississippi.

Then, there was the time I went through an extensive application process to work with a ministry in Northern India and was six months away from moving there. The advisor who walked me through the application process for over a year, jokingly told me when I was accepted for the position, “Now just don’t go falling in love or anything,” as the role was for a single person. You’ve seen enough Shakespearean comedies to know what happens in the next scene: that was when I met my husband, and indeed, did not move to India as planned.

I’ve questioned God’s plans many times, confused by the detours that seem to mark my journey. That’s part of why I’ve always felt a connection with our church’s namesake, St. Paul. In the book of Acts, Paul’s ministry is marked by frequent changes, his plans disrupted, and routes redirected by the Holy Spirit. Time and again, where Paul intended to go wasn’t where God ultimately led him.

Paul and his companions were “forbidden by the Holy Spirit to speak the word in Asia” and then prevented by “the Spirit of Jesus” from entering Bithynia. Paul initially intended to continue strengthening churches he had planted in Galatia (modern-day Turkey). We don’t know why, but his plans were blocked by God. Instead, Paul received a vision of a man from Macedonia pleading for help.

The vision Paul received from God is often called the “Macedonian Call.” It is the call from God that redirects him to a geographical area which includes modern-day countries from Greece to Bulgaria.

Paul wasn’t resisting God, like Jonah. He was trying to be faithful. And still, God said no.

I wonder if Paul doubted himself. “Did I hear you wrong, God?” I’ve asked that question too. When India didn’t work out, I thought I had misheard. Every door had opened—until it didn’t. But I also knew marrying Lee was right. I couldn’t do both.

Have you ever had a moment like that? When God’s “no” felt like rejection, and left you wondering if you got it all wrong?

But Paul? He didn’t hesitate. Acts says, “When he had seen the vision, we immediately tried to cross over to Macedonia, being convinced that God had called us to proclaim the good news to them.” He understood God’s no as redirection, not rejection. He stayed open, and he immediately set sail.

Are we open like that? Can we respond when the Spirit whispers something unexpected? I know I often pack my life so full of my own schedules and plans that I can too easily miss the Spirit’s promptings.

This past year, I’ve had the joy of serving with our lay pastoral care team at St. Paul’s. These chaplains show up for people—visiting, praying, bringing meals, making calls. But what inspires me most is their sensitivity to the Spirit.

In our daily lives, God can bring people across our paths who need a listening ear, to receive a word of encouragement. And this group of people has challenged me immensely. That’s where I struggle. I fill my days with plans—even good ones, ministry ones—and sometimes miss the person God places right in front of me.

I challenge you, as they’ve challenged me: let God interrupt your plans. Those interruptions might just be invitations to what God is doing in someone’s life.

So, Paul and his companions stayed open, and they responded to God’s direction, which was not the direction Paul expected to go. Remember, he hoped to go to the eastern part of the Roman Empire, but the Macedonian Call resulted in sailing to the Roman colony of Philippi, which is modern-day northern Greece and is still seen as the gateway to Europe. Up until this point, the message of Jesus had been limited to Asia, but with this trip, his teachings broke into Europe and the Western world.

Macedonia wasn’t where Paul expected to go. And Lydia wasn’t who Paul expected to find. He had a vision of a man calling him to come over and help. When they arrived, they sought out a place of prayer, since the city didn’t have a synagogue, likely due to a small Jewish population.

They went outside the city gate to the river, a customary place for informal worship and prayer gatherings. There, they found a group of women, and among them, Lydia. A successful businesswoman dealing in purple cloth, she was already a worshiper of God. As Paul spoke, the Lord opened her heart. She and her household were baptized, and her home became the first church in Europe.

God’s mission goes where God wills, and often through the people we least expect. All of today’s lessons show that clearly. Paul preaches to Gentile women. Jesus heals a man and ignites a controversy, spreading his message further. Revelation paints a picture of all nations gathered around the throne. Psalm 67 reminds us that God blesses so that all nations might know God’s saving power.

Women, Gentiles, the ill, and far-off nations—in today’s readings, they’re all included in God’s purposes. The breaking in of God’s kingdom happens wherever people are willing to take it and others are willing to receive it.

This short passage in Acts concludes: “When she and her household were baptized, she urged us, saying, 'If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home." And she prevailed upon us.” Lydia’s faith became immediately active: she opened her home to be a place of meeting. Her faith became immediately active. Social and cultural barriers fell. And a church took root.

From beginning to end, this text stresses that it is God who is in charge of the mission, God who sets its direction, and God who determines its results. The same Spirit that redirected Paul opened hearts in Philippi. Lydia was ready. Paul was faithful and showed up, but God did the rest. If we’re ready and willing to show up where God calls, God will do the work.

I’d like to tell you, the early redirections in my life taught me to be more perceptive to the Spirit, but apparently, I am a slow learner. Many years after I was supposed to move to India, I had indeed lived there for a summer and visited three other times on short trips when Lee and I finally felt God was opening the door for us to move there.

It seemed everything was falling into place. We were four months away from moving when the organization we were going to work for hard foreign visas revoked and the doors slammed closed. We were devastated.

But if you’ve ever had a conversation with me over the past three years, you likely know my family did move overseas when our children were small, and we loved our time in Bangladesh. We can see now, in retrospect, how important that detour was.

It wasn’t where we expected to go, but it was exactly where we needed to be. In Dhaka, we witnessed God’s grace in unexpected friendships and in the sacred hospitality of those we were supposed to be serving—who, in truth, taught us more about faith and endurance than we could have imagined.

Looking back on history from what we know now, we can see how pivotal God’s plan to send Paul to Macedonia was as well. He planted several churches in the region, including in Philippi, Thessalonica, and nearby Corinth, that became vital to the early church’s growth and maintained long-standing relationships with the apostles.

Scholars believe Lydia likely played a key leadership role in the Philippian church, which developed a uniquely deep and mutual relationship with Paul. Their partnership was marked by joy, generosity, and shared ministry. Even during Paul’s imprisonment in Rome, the Philippians continued to support him financially and spiritually, sending Epaphroditus to care for his needs.

That single vision Paul received and was faithful to follow opened a gateway for the gospel into Europe, a hinge moment in church history. All because Paul listened. All because Lydia said yes.We make plans. We chart our course and set our intentions, and God’s plans often look quite different from what we expected. But what if the interruptions along the way aren’t just an inconvenience or a coincidence? What if they’re divine? What if the detour is actually an invitation?

Could it be that God redirects us, like Paul, not away from purpose, but toward it? Toward someone who’s waiting to hear good news? Someone listening, ready to respond?

It’s not lost on me that it was through yet another detour, another no, that we ended up back in the U.S., and eventually, here at St. Paul’s. We had planned to stay in Bangladesh longer than we did, but family needs brought us back.

Five years ago, I didn’t plan to be in the Episcopal Church or expect to pursue the priesthood. I couldn’t have imagined ending up here, in this community, surrounded by so many faithful and generous people. But this place has been one of the most beautiful surprises of my life. And just like Paul in Macedonia, I know God brought me here.

As I reflect on this final Sunday with you, I see that what felt like setbacks were sacred redirections. Each no was an opening to a deeper yes—a yes to relationships, to learning, to serving, to growing into the person and minister God is shaping me to be.

So today, I leave you with this encouragement: hold your plans loosely. Be faithful in your discerning and bold in your dreaming but always leave room for holy interruption. The gospel is on the move, and the Spirit still calls. Sometimes the road you thought was a detour turns out to be the main path. Sometimes the person you didn’t expect, like Lydia, is the very one through whom God is building something new.

Listen for the Spirit. Follow where God leads. And when the next unexpected call comes, when the door you wanted closes, or the plan you carefully laid crumbles—don’t be afraid. God is still working. God is still calling. And just maybe, the next place you end up will be a Philippi of your own.

Thank you, St. Paul’s, for being one of those sacred, surprising stops on my journey. Thank you for your warmth, your prayers, your love, and your faith. They have changed me.

May the Spirit continue to lead you, together and individually, to unexpected places and people. May you welcome the stranger, listen deeply, and remain always open to the voice that whispers, “Come over…and help.”

Amen.