Epiphany

Epiphany, Year A, 2008

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

Epiphany: it is a word that evokes inspiration! Lightbulb moments! Big breakthroughs!

Why then, was this Epiphany sermon so hard to write?  This should be an easy sermon-I could write something really poetic about how our encounters with Jesus parallel the encounters of the Magi.  I could write something about how we each bring gifts to Jesus.  I could write something about how life is a journey, but ultimately we find and are found by Jesus. 

Instead, this year, when I read the Epiphany story, the story of the wise men really bothered me.

After all, the wise men were not kings.  There were not three of them.  The wise men do not go to a stable or see Jesus in a manger. They didn’t even bring camels with them! Is nothing sacred?

Like many stories in the Bible, the Sunday School image we have of the Epiphany story does not match up with the actual text.  The story is different, and much darker, than the one we re-enact in Christmas pageants and carols.

So who were these wise men that visited Jesus? 

The Greek word for these wise men is magos, which is where we get the word Magi.  Magi were political and also religious advisors to the kings of Persia.  They were probably nothing like what would happen if Karl Rove and Billy Graham merged into one person, but that can be a starting point for us to understand their function.  In their culture and time, kings wanted to read the religious landscape as well as the political landscape and Magi were their translators.  Magi were not part of the Jewish tradition, and part of their religious practice was to read the stars for meaning and wisdom.  When we think of astrology today, we think of newspaper columns and batty old ladies, but for the magi, astrology was a way to understand the universe.

So, when the Magi read the stars and see something unusual-about a new King of the Jews in Bethlehem–they are intrigued and go on a journey to meet this new king.  They get to Jerusalem and start gabbing about this king, and soon enough word gets to Herod.  Herod was the official King of the Jews, but Herod’s appointment was purely political.  He was a Jew yes, but by all accounts a Jew in name only.  He was appointed by the Roman government and was their puppet.  In addition, Herod was not a stable person.  Herod was the kind of person who loves power, but is fundamentally insecure, so must undermine everyone around him.  You may have worked for a mini-Herod at someone point in your life.  The more power people like Herod get, the more damage they can do.  Herod considers this baby a huge threat to him, and so orders the Magi to go and search for the baby and report back to him.

Remember, the Magi aren’t even his employees.  They are just wise men, from hundreds of miles away, but since they were going to go on this journey anyway, they acquiesce and make the journey to Bethlehem. 

They see the star, just as they predicted, and find Jesus in a house, not a stable. 

And here is where the story really starts to get upsetting.  After the Magi worship Jesus, they are warned in a dream not to return to Herod, so then the wise men go on their merry way, back to their riches, back to their safe life.

Have you ever wondered what happens after the Magi leave Bethlehem?  Well, in the latter part of the second chapter of Matthew, Joseph also has a dream that tells him to get out of dodge, so he, Mary and baby Jesus become refugees in Egypt.  And if that is not bad enough, Herod orders all the baby boys of Bethlehem, age two years and under to be executed.  And they are.

I don’t believe the massacre of the infants is ever mentioned in the New Testament again, but I wonder how it affected Jesus.  Did he know it happened?  Did he feel guilty?  Was that part of the reason he was so kind and welcoming to children?  Was the massacre why he was so critical of those in power?  Did he have any memories of Joseph and Mary terrified, sheltering him in Egypt, wanting desperately to go home?

Happy Epiphany, indeed.

This Epiphany, I want the Magi to be more heroic.  I want their faith and excitement about the birth of Jesus to motivate them to stop Herod’s madness.  I want them to do something about the impending massacre.  I don’t want them to run away to safety.  I want them to stand up and fight.  I want them to use their wealth and intelligence to trick Herod or have him deposed.  The Christmas story is all about people of little influence-shepherds, a carpenter, a young woman-whom God uses to bring about the salvation of the world.  The only set of characters in the story who have any power or wealth are the Magi.  And the Magi run away. 

God did not ask the Magi to stand up to Herod, so maybe hero was not their role, or maybe they understood that this Christmas story was not all shiny stars and gifts of gold. Maybe they understood that the birth of Christ has a dark side.  After all, one of the gifts they brought Jesus was myrrh-a fluid used in embalming.  Maybe their visit was both worship and a warning.  Maybe the Magi are in the story to warn Jesus and his parents that his journey will not be an easy one.  Maybe they are in the story to remind us that Christmas is followed by Good Friday.  And in this year, with only six weeks between Christmas and Lent, we will barely have put away the Christmas ornaments, before it is time to cloak ourselves in the memory of Christ’s death. 

But maybe we, as Christ’s followers–who have seen the horrors of Herod’s massacre, the Crusades, the Inquisition, the Holocaust, genocide in Rwanda and Sudan or this week in Kenya-maybe we who have the benefit of history-Maybe we can stand up to the Herods of this world even if the Magi were not in the position to do so.  We have the wealth. We have the power.  Heck, we even have the internet!  Maybe it is up to us, through our votes, through our charitable donations, through our advocacy to help stop future massacres, future despots.  Or, maybe we start smaller, and just deal with the mini-Herods in our workplaces or families.  Maybe we finally stand up to them knowing that we have the power of Christ-he who was born, died and rose again-behind us.  Maybe that is our gift to the Christ Child this Epiphany-that we will do all in our power to protect families like his family, and children like those who were slaughtered by a ruthless leader so many years ago.

For the power of the Herods of the world isn’t real power-it is just thuggery.  We have the real power-the power of a loving, creative, holy God who works in us and through us for good. 

And maybe that is our epiphany this Epiphany-that despite the dark underbelly of the Christian story-the Herods of the world do not win. The powerless, and those who love justice and those who practice mercy are all vindicated and redeemed by Christ’s resurrection, while the Herods of the world are left to the judgment of God. 

And that’s the good news that compelled three Magi from Persia to travel hundreds of miles to a no-count town in Israel to worship a tiny baby-A tiny baby that would change everything. 

Amen.

Epiphany 6, Year C, 2007

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

Jesus has been hanging out around Richmond, doing some miracles, recruiting followers and attracting a lot of attention. The religious leaders in town are not pleased.  Big shot representatives from St. James’s Episcopal, First Baptist, Centenary United Methodist and other “important” churches have sought him out to ask him challenging questions and to publicly dispute Jesus’ claims about himself.  But these big shots are not the only ones who have heard of Jesus.  Other people, less important people, have been healed and they are calling their friends and family members all over Virginia. 

So, after awhile Jesus escapes to Afton Mountain, where he can take a breather and regroup from all the attention that has been given him.  He gathers himself, and then comes down to Greenwood to teach his disciples.  When he gets down here, he realizes that huge crowds have gathered.  These aren’t the same stentorian religious leaders that challenged him so decorously in Richmond.  This is a ragtag group from all over the state.  People have packed up meals for several days and walked from Tidewater, from Alexandria, from south Boston, even from Wise.  Hearing stories of healing, they come seeking an encounter with the living God, hoping to see a miracle or be healed themselves. 

In this crowd are the unemployed, meth addicts, migrant workers, high school dropouts, the terminally ill, the elderly, children skipping school, widows, and of course, the curious.  This is not a group you would want to bring home to your mother.  You’re in the group, too.  But, you never went to college or got the job you had now.  You never fell in love, got married and had children.  You’re pretty lonely and you’re definitely broke.  You look around at the people surrounding you and you start to laugh because they are so pitiful.  You’re pitiful.  Finally, Jesus arrives and when he starts speaking, the hairs on the back of you neck rise. 

Your whole life you have been led to believe that the blessed are those who have a steady income, and family that loves them.  You believed that the blessed are those in power, who drive fancy cars.  You believe that the blessed are those who never shed a tear and cruise along in life without any challenges.

Imagine your surprise you over hear Jesus say the following sentences to his disciples.

Blessed are you who are poor,
for yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are you who are hungry now,
for you will be filled.

Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.

Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.

These words of Jesus pierce your heart.  He is calling you blessed, your life blessed. 

Your whole life you have been told that you aren’t worth anything, because you’ve never achieved anything the world considers valuable.  Yet this holy man, who has the power to heal, the power to do miracles is choosing to call you blessed. Jesus is saying that you are loved by God, favored by God. 

Next, Jesus’ words get even stranger. 

He says,

But woe to you who are rich,
for you have received your consolation.

Woe to you who are full now,
for you will be hungry.

Woe to you who are laughing now,
for you will mourn and weep.

Woe to you when all speak well of you,
for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.

Jesus is flipping everything your culture believes on its ear.  You can hear the murmurs in the crowd, especially from the folks who have a little money.  They don’t really like what they are hearing.

You on the other hand, are too busy having your mind blown to murmur.  Your whole concept of who God is and what God is like and what the kingdom of God will be like is being turned topsy turvy.  You start to understand that just because your church or your society says something about God or about you, does not mean it is true.  You start to understand that God’s values are about relationship rather than acquisition.  You start to understand all the great stuff rich people have, rather than being a reward from God, can actually function as a block between people and God. 

You watch some of these rich folks as they realize the cost of following Jesus.  Some of them are up for the challenge.  They know that a relationship with God is such an incredible, unique experience that in perspective, money and possessions aren’t that big a deal.  You can tell other folks are really weighing their options.  It is not easy to create a life that is rich of wonderful experiences and possessions.  That kind of a life takes years of effort, hard work, and sacrifices.  Following Jesus has no guarantees of earthly pleasure or reward.  A third group of rich people do not need any time to think.  They walk away, convinced Jesus is a nut.

They don’t quite understand, like you do, this blessedness that Jesus describes is the deepest kind of well-being that exists.  Blessedness is a kind of well being that no material object can match.  Blessedness is being loved not for what you have acquired or what you have done, but for being exactly who you are.  Blessedness fills the deepest sadnesses of our hearts with joy.  Blessedness is undeserved, unasked for and always surprising.  Blessedness forces us to acknowledge that all the “stuff” of this life is just. . .”stuff”, ephemeral and transitory.  In contrast, blessedness is eternal and real. 

Blessedness turns the world upside down and forces us to look at life an entirely different way.  Blessedness is grace.

As you watch all the different reactions to Jesus, you process what you are seeing and you understand that the real blessedness comes from knowing Jesus better, from being in relationship with God.  So, when Jesus leaves Greenwood, you follow him.  You don’t pack up your things, you don’t say your goodbyes, you just follow him, so your journey of blessedness can begin.

 

Epiphany 3, Year C, 2007

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

Have you been watching the NBC show Heroes?  The premise is this:  All of a sudden, a small percentage of “normal” human beings discover they have superpowers.  The high school cheerleader Claire learns that her body heals instantly after being wounded.  The politician Nathan discovers, much to his chagrin, that he can fly.  The artist Isaac discovers he can paint the future.  Matt, the police officer, can read minds.  The office worker Hiro, can travel through time.  Most interesting, perhaps, is Peter, who can pick up the superpower of whomever he is around.  When he is around Claire, his body can regenerate.  When he’s around Nathan, he can fly, and so on.

The first part of the season has been about each of these characters discovering their superpowers.  Some, like Hiro, are thrilled, and can’t wait to fulfill his superhero duties. Some, like Claire the cheerleader are really scared about being different.  And some, like Nathan, are just angry because they are afraid their superpower will diminish their political or social power.  All of them are confused about why they have been given these powers and for what purpose they should use them.

I suspect over the rest of the series some will use their power for good, some for evil, but ultimately these individual heroes will have to come together as a team to vanquish some as of yet unknown evil.

None of these heroes have the power to defeat much of anything on their own, but together they will make an incredible team.

Does any of this sound familiar?  If you change superpowers to spiritual gifts, you’ve got our reading from Paul’s letter to the Corinthians today!

The church at Corinth, like all churches in Paul’s time, was just a few years old.  People from all walks of life, all different backgrounds found themselves thrown together by their common faith in Christ.  Like any group of people trying to come together in a community, they faced bickering, power plays, and mistrust.  In this part of his letter to them, Paul is trying to convey what it means to be a community rooted in Christ.

No matter how different the members-some were Greek, some were Jewish, some were free and some were slaves-they all had the same standing in Paul’s eyes.  And success as a community was rooted in its members ability to see each other as important equals.

For Paul, any Christian community represents the body of Christ.  We represent Christ, manifest Christ in the world.  Because we are all part of this body, there are no unimportant parts. 

We all have different gifts.  Some of us are great at hospitality.  Others are wonderful listeners.  Some are gifted in financial management.  Some are gifted in prayer.  Some are gifted in leadership.  Some are gifted in teaching. Some are gifted in inspiring speech. 

Some of us know our gifts, and some of us, like the characters in Heroes, need to spend some time discerning what our gifts are and how we can best use them.

Even when we do each know our gifts, none of these gifts are enough on their own.  Paul’s point is, that, like a group of superheroes, each member of the Body of Christ needs the other.  Being a Christian means being a part of a community.  And there are no unimportant parts of the community.

Many Christians, women in particular struggle, with doubt that they have any gifts worth contributing to the Church.  We all have days where we feel more like a hang nail than a heart, more appendix than brain.  But Paul reminds us that every part of the Body of Christ is just as important as any other.

Remember, all Christians are the body of Christ-and that is an amazing, powerful image.  When Christ was on this earth, people followed him around for days just to get a glimpse of that body, or to touch a hand or the hem of his garment.  Christ’s body was incredibly powerful.  It embodied God. 

Together, we can embody Christ to each other and to the community around us. 

Today, as we meet together as a congregation during our annual meeting, we make decisions together about how we want to embody Christ.  Each of us are important both to the ministries of our church and in our decision making as a church body.

We may not be tasked with saving the world, like the characters on Heroes.  But we are tasked to the wonderful privilege of being in community together.  Sometimes that looks like bountiful potlucks, sometimes it looks like worshipping together, and sometimes it looks like the rather unglamorous, but important task of meeting together as a decision making body.

I look forward to seeing you at the annual meeting.

Baptism of our Lord, Year C, 2007

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

I don’t know how many of you are former evangelicals, but I spent most of my later adolescence as a hand clapping, power point watching, profoundly guilt-ridden modern American conservative evangelical.  It was good times. 

Though now I prefer Anglican chant, complicated motets and authentic gospel music, at the time I loved praise music.  My favorite praise song was based on our passage from Isaiah today.

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.
The wind and the waves shall not over come you.
Do not fear, for I will be with you.

and so on and so forth. 

For a nerve-wracked college student trying to figure out what to do with her life, the comforting idea of God’s omnipresence in difficult times was very reassuring.  In fact, I still love an image of a God who is with us, even in our most difficult experiences. 

In the passage from Isaiah today, God is responding to the people of Judah who have been complaining that God has abandoned them because Jerusalem has been destroyed. He reassures them that, despite appearances, He is, in fact, with them.  And no matter what deep waters or hot fires might try to consume them, God will not leave them.

How poignant then, in our Gospel passage today, to see Jesus joining the throng as they are baptized by John the Baptist.  While in many ways, this scene of Jesus’ baptism is familiar to us, there is one key difference between Luke’s account of the baptism and the account of other Gospel writers.

While the authors of the Gospel of Mark, Matthew and John remember Jesus’ baptism as an individual event, independent from the baptisms of the crowds that gathered to hear John the Baptist, in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is one of many who are baptized.

But why did Jesus even need to be baptized?  The baptism that John the Baptist performed was a baptism for the remission of sins.  Why in the world would God need to repent of sins?

Imagine with me the setting:  John has set up shop on the banks of a river and hundreds of people of every shape and size are crowded around, waiting eagerly to be baptized.  They enter the water one by one or perhaps as a crowd.  As they are each baptized and washed clean, the water around them gets less clean. The dirt that collected on each person’s feet as they made the long trek to the wilderness, drifts into the water.  The sweat from the heat, joins the dirt.  The sin that has built up over a life time of being human, pollutes the water.

Jesus enters into this murky water, embodying Isaiah’s words.  God is not only figuratively with us when we’re in deep water.  In this case, Jesus actually stands shoulder to shoulder with every sinner who wants to be washed clean.  Jesus does not shy away from the messy, literally dirty parts of these people.  Jesus bathes in them and seeks baptism himself.

Instead of washing himself from sins, in that dark water, maybe Jesus was taking on our sins.  Perhaps he was embodying what he would go on to do his whole life-living as a God completely committed to being human, in all of humanity’s strength and weakness.

We all know that when we experience our baptisms, we become one with Christ.  We change our identity.  We become “marked as Christ’s own forever”.  Perhaps when Jesus was baptized by John in the wilderness, he became marked as our own forever. 

And this is what God blesses.  For just as in all the other Gospel accounts of Jesus’ baptism, a dove from heaven descends, alights upon Jesus and the onlookers hear the words, “You are my Son, the Beloved.  With you I am well pleased.”

At this moment of utter humility-the moment when Jesus enters a body of water to be baptized for the remission of sins, this moment when Jesus is incredibly vulnerable and human-this is when God chooses to make a public declaration of Jesus’ identity as God’s Son. 

Frederick Buechner, the great Presbyterian novelist and autobiographical author knows this aspect of God’s closeness to us well.  The deep waters he waded through were his father’s suicide when he was a child and his daughter’s anorexia when he was an adult.  At the height of her illness, she became so sick she was hospitalized.  Though Buechner was terrified, He writes,

“I have never felt God’s presence more strongly than when my wife and I visited that distant hospital where our daughter was.  Walking down the corridor to the room that had her name taped to the door, I felt that presence surrounding me like air-God in his very stillness, holding his breath, loving her, loving us all, the only way he can without destroying us.  One night we went to compline in an Episcopal Cathedral, and in the coolness and near emptiness of that great vaulted place, in the remoteness of the choir’s voices chanting plainsong, in the grayness of the stone, I felt it again-the passionate restraint and hush of God.”

Buechner sensed Jesus standing shoulder to shoulder with him.  Buechner knew God was in the deep water with him and would not abandon him.

So, it turns out that the words to that praise song I sang as an adolescent are as true now as they were a decade ago.  God will be with us when we pass through deep water.  God will be with us when we walk through fire.  Our God really is Emmanuel-God with us.  Thanks be to God.
 

Epiphany 7, Year B, 2006

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

I am about to do a new thing.

God declares this through Isaiah’s words and in Jesus’ actions in our lessons this morning.

Jesus had only been in active, public ministry for a few weeks, but word about him had spread throughout the region.  Jesus was teaching all sorts of incredible new ideas about God.  And not only that, Jesus was also doing incredible things.  He was sending demons flying and healing little old ladies.  Even though he wanted to maintain a low profile and asked those he healed not to tell others about him, those who had received his healings could not help but go on and on about Jesus to their friends and family. 

When friends of a paralytic heard about Jesus, they knew their friend needed to meet him.  We don’t get the whole story about this paralytic, but we do get a sense of the energy around him.  His friends were so committed to having him healed, they traveled to Capernaum, to the house where Jesus was staying.  Unfortunately, once they got there they could not get in the door, because so many people were crowding around Jesus, wanting healings. 

The paralytic’s friends were not to be denied.  They somehow climbed onto the roof, hauled the paralytic onto the roof, and began digging.  Rooves in towns like Capernaum were made of slats of wood, filled in with mud, rocks, and big flat leaves.  These friends tore through the outer layer, began shoveling mud and rocks out with their hands or small tools, and eventually broke through. 

I wonder if the people in side the house could hear the commotion they made.  Was it so crowded that Jesus could not hear what was going on?  Or, was Jesus amused by their efforts and simply waiting patiently for the paralytic’s arrival.

All we know is, when the friends finally broke through the roof and lowered their friend down in front of Jesus, everything stopped.  Whatever teaching or healing was going on was halted by this abrupt arrival of a man being lowered down on a pallet. 

Jesus took this opportunity, the faith of this man and his friends, to teach the crowd around him something new. 

The crowd had heard about Jesus’s ability to exorcise demons and to heal, but Jesus wanted to show them that he wasn’t just a miracle worker, he wasn’t just a showman, he was God. 

God says, I am doing a new thing.

Little did the friends of the paralytic know that their grit, their determination would be the background God would use to announce his presence on earth, and his intention to heal humanity, not just from physical infirmity, but from sin.

Now, after two thousand years hearing about how Jesus forgives us our sins, we start to take this information for granted and forgiveness loses some of the emotional power it once had. 

However, we must remember that when God came to earth in and through Jesus, the Jewish powers of the day were deeply into legalism -being a good Jew meant following all the rules, crossing all the Ts and dotting all the I’s.  Though in the past, God had tried to communicate that he was less interested in ritual sacrifice and ritual prayer than authentic worship and service to the poor and needy, the message had not gotten through to the people. 

The idea that a human being would claim to be able to forgive sins, was completely absurd-blasphemous even!  No human being could forgive sins.  Yet, here sits Jesus, calmly telling the paralytic that his sins are forgiven-and, by the way, that he can walk again. 

But really, when you think about it, the healing of the body and the forgiving of sin are more connected than one might think.  What is sin, but a kind of brokenness?  It makes perfect sense that the God who wants to heal us physically, also wants to heal our spirits.  Forgiveness is not just about divine, eternal consequences for our behavior.  Forgiveness is about restoring a right relationship with our creator and with our neighbor.

While humans are made in God’s image and have wonderful capacity to be creative and loving individuals, we also are fundamentally broken.  None of us loves perfectly, none of us is perfectly honest or good.  Despite the Jews of Jesus’ time having a list of 600 very specific rules to follow, no one seemed to be able to follow them all perfectly, no matter how hard they tried. 

In our culture today, we don’t’ have 600 religious laws, but we do have an image of perfection we try to follow subconsciously. Being competent, having the appearance of being “together” is incredibly important. 

But, what if God is doing a new thing?

This week, Chuck and I had the interesting experience of meeting with a local therapist who has a vision.  Over the years of his ministry, he has encountered individuals and couples who can admit their brokenness to him and to each other, but these same people continue to pretend to their friends and to their churches that everything about their life is together and perfect. 

This therapist believes that true healing occurs in community.  Therapy is a wonderful tool that can help people deepen relationships with each other, but this therapist would love his counseling sessions to be simply a beginning for his clients.  That like Henri Nouwen’s wounded healer, his clients could use their painful experiences and their experiences of forgiveness to propel them into community and into ministry.  This therapist envisions a ministry in which he counsels people in their church buildings, and that the community life of church and the private work of therapy ultimately partner together.

I think the image of the paralytic’s friend’s lowering him onto the mat is a wonderful example of this kind of community.  The paralytic was in a situation where his problem could not be hidden.  He obviously could not walk.  His friends did not hold back, ignoring his problem in order not to embarrass him.  No, they were engaged with him, and committed to his healing.  They were so committed they tore through a roof so he could see Jesus.

Now, I don’t know if this therapist’s ministry will be successful, but I know from personal experience that the combination of therapy and intentional community can be a powerful vehicle for the work of God.

From 1999 until 2002 I was part of a small group Bible study in Richmond.  About seven of us met weekly to study the bible and pray together.  In that way, we looked like any other bible study.  The difference was that four of us were in therapy, two were getting degrees in counseling and one was married to one of the counselors!  It was while I was in this group that I left the evangelical church to become an Episcopalian, experienced the death of my mother, and discerned a call to the priesthood.  Words cannot express the powerful ways God used this group as we each faced the brokenness in our lives and came together to support, challenge and pray for each other. This community held my brokenness tenderly, protecting and loving me, so I could grow into the person God wanted me to be.  We also had a ridiculous amount of fun together and became a true community, even outside of the Bible Study. 

At times the intimacy we achieved felt very risky, especially as my theological ideas were changing, but despite our theological differences, or perhaps because of them, we were able to each deepen our faith and learn about God.  For me, these six friends were my pallet carriers.  They brought me to Jesus, reminding me of his love and forgiveness for me over and over again.

Obviously therapy and small groups are not the only ways to live in deep community with one another.  However, we ARE called to be in deep community. Throughout history, God has called communities of faith, rather than individuals.  We gather together as a church every Sunday, because it is impossible for us to discern God’s call as individuals.  We need each other to fully realize our faith.  We need each other to carry each other when we cannot walk.  We need each other to express God’s forgiveness when we feel only guilt. 

So, maybe it’s God who needs US to do a new thing-to trust him and trust each other to live authentic lives in community.

Epiphany 2, Year B, 2006

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

Lord: Sarah  

Sarah:  (Look around confused)

Lord:  (more insistently) Sarah!

Sarah:  Yes, Lord?

Lord:  You misunderstood me.  I didn’t say you should become a priest.  I said you should marry Jason Priestly.  You know, the actor from Beverly Hills 90210? 

Sarah:  (Confused look on her face)  Well, it’s a little late now. . .and I think Jason Priestly is married. . .do you mind if I just keep being a priest?

Lord:  (Sigh)  Fine.

Sarah:  Okay, well, then I’m going to go ahead and preach. . .

Hearing the call of God is a confusing, complicated process.  It would be nice if God would shout from the heavens and tell us exactly what we should do with our lives.  However, God seems to prefer to reveal our call to us slowly and quietly, so that we truly have to search our heart, mind and spirit.

Today’s reading from the Old Testament is about the call of Samuel.  Samuel’s mother was a woman named Hannah.  She was one of two wives of a loving husband and was barren for many years.  One day, she went to the temple where the priest, Eli, presided.  She wept and prayed so hard her lips moved.  Eli, not being the most compassionate priest on the planet, thought she was drunk and told her to move along.  Nice, huh?

So, Hannah goes home, soon gets pregnant and is so thankful that she not only names her son Shem-uel-name of God-she also vows to give her baby to the temple, so he can serve God all his life. 

In the meantime, Eli’s sons, who were supposed to take over for him, were incredibly corrupt, stealing from the offerings brought to the table, strong-arming people who came to pray.  As you can imagine, God was NOT happy about this.

So, this brings us to today’s reading.  Samuel is an apprentice at the Temple and while sleeping, hears a voice calling him.  He assumes it is Eli speaking and goes to him.  Eventually Eli realizes what is going on and helps Samuel figure out that God is trying to speak to Samuel.  So, Samuel tells God he is listening, and God gives Samuel a terrible message to give to Eli, telling Eli how Eli’s family’s dynasty will end because his sons have been so corrupt. 

To Eli’s credit, he does not get angry with Samuel, but realizes that he should raise Samuel as an honest, ethical priest.

Samuel’s call story is a wonderful model for us, because Samuel could not discern his call himself.  He needed the help of the community to discern his call.  Without Eli’s perception, he would have no idea God wanted to speak with him.

All of us have a call-something we were designed to do.  A call can be described as our deepest passions meeting up with the needs of the world around us.  The author of a book called Listening Hearts writes,

A call may come as a gradual dawning of God’s purpose for our lives.  It can involve an accelerating sense of inner direction.  It can emerge through a dawning feeling that we need to do a specific thing.  On occasion, it can burst forth as a sudden awareness of a path God would have us take.  Call may be emphatic and unmistakable, or it may be obscure and subtle.*

We often think of a call in religious terms-a call to the priesthood or to a monastery-but a call can take as many forms as there are people.  You can have a call to a particular work within the church:  youth group, ministering to the homebound, evangelizing, hospitality, but you can also have a call to secular work-a call to the theater, to law, to medicine, to interior design, to fatherhood, to motherhood, to writing. 

A call can be lived out through a paying job, or it can be something you pursue in your free time.  Many calls are not particularly lucrative, so-this may come as a shock to you-some people have jobs that don’t fulfill their deepest passions, but do pay the bills.  That is a perfectly honorable way to live. 

There are two major glitches in life that can throw us off course from living out our call:

First:  What if we don’t know our call?

Second:  What if we know our call but can’t satisfy it?

In the first instance, if we don’t know our call, we need to heed Eli’s advice:  Say a prayer to God, “Here I am.”  Let God know that you are paying attention, ready to listen.  So often, we tell God what we want or what our worries are, and we don’t leave space for God to respond to us. 

Next, journal about your deepest passions.  What moves you, what excites you? 

Third, talk to your friends and family.  Often, those around us can see our gifts far earlier than we can.  When I trepidatiously announced my desire to pursue ordination, my father and a priest friend both said a more eloquent version of, “Duh.” 

Finally, pay attention.  Although God does not often speak in a booming voice from above, he can speak through the world around us.  If you start looking for needs in the world around you, soon you will find a place where you can serve. 

The second case, being unable to satisfy one’s call, is much more challenging.  I have two friends, both of whom feel a strong call to motherhood. Unfortunately, both are single women.  One of them followed her call, and after a year of prayer and discernment adopted a baby girl from China.  This has been a wonderful experience, but is loaded with the challenges that come with being a single parent. 

The other friend feels strongly that for her, the call is to marriage and motherhood.  She does not feel a particular call to a profession and as you all know, you can’t just make marriage happen.  For her, the last few years have been a real struggle as she has earnestly tried to seek a call, and prayed to be released from this desire to be a mother. In the meantime, she is pursuing a masters degree in a field she thinks she won’t hate, has moved closer to her nephew, and has adopted a dog to nurture.  She invests in friendships, her home and in her church, but the gnawing desire of her call never truly leaves her. 

Many artists and writers also struggle with unsatisfied call, because it is so difficult to support oneself in those fields. 

Unfortunately, I have no easy solution for this problem.  However, I think the icon of Hannah, Samuel’s mother, can be a helpful one for us.  Hannah’s barrenness represents not only the inability to have a child, but also the inability to complete any creative act.  Hannah, who was barren for so many years, did the only thing we can do when we are absolutely stuck and hopeless.  The author of 1 Samuel describes Hannah as “speaking in her heart” when she prayed to God.  She prayed, honestly and passionately.  She wept and pleaded.  Hannah did not suffer in silence, repressing her desires-she began a conversation with God.  Hannah is an icon of hope because her prayers were answered.  She also presents a challenge for us, because once her prayers were answered, she immediately gave Samuel back to God. 

Hannah reminds us that, although a call feels intensely personal, ultimately a call is about lining up our lives with the divine. And, although living one’s call can feel incredibly satisfying, there is always an element of sacrifice when we live the life God intends for us. 

Hannah could not have known the consequences of returning Samuel to the temple, but God would go on to use Samuel as one of the most respected prophets in the history of Israel.  He oversaw the first King of Israel, Saul and was instrumental in recruiting David, after Saul displeased God.  

In pursuing her desire to have a child, Hannah blessed all of Israel.  Just imagine what might happen in this community if we all followed our calls.

Amen.

 

* Farnham, Gill, McLean and Ward, Listening Hearts, Morehouse Publishing:  Harrisburg, PA (1991), p. 7.