A sermon preached by the Reverend Sarah Grondin, at St. Jude’s Oakville, on The Feast of Sts. Simon and Jude, 2025.
I speak to you in the name of our loving, liberating, and life giving God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Today on our church calendar we have the dual commemoration of St. Simon, and our patron, St. Jude. The Gospels list St. Jude among the Twelve Apostles under several names: Jude, Thaddaeus, and sometimes as Judas (not Iscariot).
The confusion around Jude’s name may be one of the reasons that he wasn’t invoked in prayer very often by the faithful—certainly in the early church at least, Christians were hesitant to call upon anyone named “Judas.”
But for whatever reason, Jude was one of the lesser-known apostles. It seems quite fitting then that someone who appears almost forgotten among the apostles, would end up being the saint people turn to when they themselves feel forgotten, forsaken, or out of options.
St. Jude has become synonymous with hope in desperate situations, and he’s known as the patron of lost causes. Those who felt hopeless began to pray to the apostle who knew what it was like to be overlooked, and who, by God’s grace, became a powerful intercessor for those who have nowhere else to turn.
When we talk about “lost causes” we’re tapping into a part of the human experience that carries great pain… when a relationship with someone we love can’t be mended, when a terminal illness is diagnosed, when addiction wraps itself around someone, when the future looks bleak and hopeless. And yet the Christian story tells us there is no such thing as a truly lost cause in the light of Christ’s resurrection.
Jude’s own letter in the New Testament—which is only one short chapter—is filled with that spirit of perseverance. He writes: “But you, beloved, build yourselves up on your most holy faith; pray in the Holy Spirit; keep yourselves in the love of God; look forward to the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life.” (Jude 20–21)
That’s the voice of someone who understands struggle, but still clings to hope. Jude calls us not to deny our difficulties, but to meet them with faith, prayer, love, and mercy—the tools of resurrection life.
In our own time and place we often hear objections about what does that 2000 year old book have to say to me? To us? Though the specifics may be different, the sufferings of humanity cross time and space. In many ways we’re linked in sorrow from one generation to the next, but we’re also united in our search for joy and the restitution of God’s world.
St. Jude spoke to a world tempted by despair, and speaks to us still… Many of us know people who feel lost—lost under the weight of war, addiction, poverty, climate anxiety, loneliness, or grief. And if we’re honest with ourselves, I suspect many of us have felt lost at times as well.
Maybe now is one of those times for you.
And often, the Church herself may feel like a lost cause: struggling for relevance, declining in number, uncertain how to speak into modern life. But St. Jude’s legacy reminds us that God delights in redeeming what seems lost. The cross itself looked like a lost cause—a failed Messiah, a shattered movement. And yet from that place of utter defeat came the world’s salvation.
If God can raise Jesus from the tomb, then nothing—no person, no situation—is beyond redemption. St. Jude stands as the living symbol of that conviction: that when all earthly hope has failed, divine hope still lives.
This weekend as part of our patronal festival celebrations we have Dr. John Bowen joining us to talk about Evangelism. And part of his message for us is that evangelism is relational. It’s about entering into conversation with people and creating personal connections. Evangelism isn’t a magic wand we can wave to suddenly fill our church with people who will help us pay our bills.
It’s sharing the Good News with no expectations, and no ‘strings attached.’ There’s no guaranteed success rate or return on investment. There’s only followers of Jesus reaching out to one another, to our neighbours, and to our world, with open hands, and open hearts and minds.
The Good News of the Gospel that we’re called to share, is that divine hope can triumph over anything.
And as followers of Christ, we’re called to be bearers of that same hope. That’s what Evangelism is. We may not have the gift of miracles, but we can all do small acts of resurrection—acts that say, “I see you. God hasn’t given up on you.” That’s Good News.
Every time we forgive when it seems pointless, every time we persist in prayer when we feel unheard, every time we serve when no one notices—we’re joining St. Jude in his quiet mission of raising hope.
Our vocation as the Church is to be a community where despair meets mercy, where people who have run out of strength discover that grace still abounds. Not because we have the answers or the solutions, but because we worship a God who welcomes all and loves all. A God who dwells in the pain and chaos of our world.
So today, as we honour St. Jude, I encourage you to remember that he’s not the patron of hopelessness, but of hope against hope— of faith that dares to believe God is still working when all visible evidence suggests otherwise.
In the economy of God’s kingdom, nothing and no one is ever truly lost.
And for that, Thanks be to God! Amen.
