Come and See

 John 9:1-41

In the gospel of John, Jesus’ first words of his ministry are those we hear today. The first words we hear from his mouth in the gospel of John are “What are you looking for?” followed by “Come and see.”  They are the first words in his ministry according to the gospel of John and so we know they are important.  So I ask you today, “What is it that you are looking for?”  When you come to this place, when you come to God in prayer, when you come forward for communion or to be baptized or to join the church or serve as a leader in this church in some capacity or other, what are you looking for?

             Whatever it is that you are looking for, Jesus’ response is “come and see.”  And so we are invited to read the rest of the gospel, we are invited to look at his life, a life of service to God’s people, we are invited to see how God acts in the world through Jesus.  This is more than just an abstract idea and it is more than just looking with our eyes.  We are invited to “come” and to “see.”  The coming means stepping forward, stepping out, following Jesus.  That begins with the action of understanding what Jesus did with his life, but it also involves following Jesus in his ministry, doing what he did, serving God with all of our being.  It is only through that following of him that we will see, that we will be witnesses to God’s presence in this place.  We follow Jesus through healing and offering compassion for the sick, for the oppressed, for the poor; we follow Jesus by feeding the hungry.  We follow Jesus by lifting up and offering the good news to God’s people.  In following Jesus, we will experience God hear and now.  We will see through those around us, and through the act of following, we will find what we are looking for.

             Today we celebrate epiphany where we remember the visit of the magi bringing their gifts to Jesus.  The beauty in this story is that they came: they stepped forward on this long journey to find the Christ child, the promised king.  They did the work of taking the long, arduous journey.  They came.  And then they saw.  We change this story in our heads.  We make them powerful kings, but they weren’t.  They had to “return a different way” and avoid Herod because they were NOT powerful kings.  They saw that the Christ child was not what they expected, and they were convicted by their seeing him to avoid Herod, to not return in the same way, to not betray the child or give away his whereabouts.  They came, they saw, and then they followed the call to protect, to hide, to save this baby.

This month we also celebrate the life of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr..  And we see in him a man who embodied this message of following Jesus, of coming to see where God is in the world and what God offers to us.  In looking at his life, we remember that a life of service to God is not easy.  We also remember that no servant of God is perfect, and that this is okay.  It is the journey of following and looking that will lead us forward into those things that we are looking for.  For each of us this will look a little different as we discern in what ways God is calling us to follow.  But we are invited to respond with a “yes” to Jesus’ call for us to “come and see,” knowing that what we will see will be God and God’s action in our lives.

In the movie, Keeping the Faith, there is a wonderful conversation between a young priest and an older priest.  The young priest doubts his call into the priesthood after falling in love with a woman who is his friend.  Nothing happened between the two, but he found that the very fact of falling in love made him doubt a call that included celibacy.  He said to his older priest mentor, “If she had kissed me back, I would have given it all up.  She didn’t, but I keep thinking about what you said in the seminary that the life of a priest is hard and if you can see yourself doing anything else you should do that.”

The older priest responded, “Well that’s my recruitment speech which is good when you are starting out because it makes you feel like a marine!  But the truth is you can never tell yourself there is only one that you could be.  If you’re a priest or if you marry a woman, it is the same challenge.  You cannot make a real commitment unless you accept that it is a choice that you make again and again and again.  I’ve been a priest over 40 years, and I fall in love at least once every decade.”

             Following Christ is not easy.  And it is a choice we are called to make every day, sometimes every hour.  How will we respond to the call?  How will we choose to serve God today?  How will we be a Godly presence in the world?

Today’s Isaiah passage says, “And now the LORD says— he who formed me in the womb to be his servant ….I will also make you a light” 

These are words for and from Isaiah.  They are also words spoken, again, to us.  God has formed you, each of you to be God’s action in the world, to be God’s light in the world, to be God’s child.  You are called.  Choosing to follow Jesus, choosing to “come and see,” that will lead you into whatever it is you are seeking, that will lead you to life.

             And there is more good news.  Because God will make that call clear by what God puts in front of us each day.  I love the words to Amy Grant’s song “All I ever have to be” and I’d like to read those words for you now:

When the weight of all my dreams
Is resting heavy on my head,
And the thoughtful words of health and hope
Have all been nicely said.

But I'm still hurting,
Wondering if I'll ever be
The one I think I am.

I think I am.

Then you gently re-remind me
That you've made me from the first,
And the more I try to be the best
The more I get the worst.

And I realize the good in me,
Is only there because of who you are.

Who you are...

And all I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.
Any more or less would be a step
Out of your plan.

As you daily recreate me,
Help me always keep in mind
That I only have to do
What I can find.

And all I ever have to be
All I have to be
All I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.

 

In one episode of Joan of Arcadia, Joan comes to a point at which she feels she is being asked by God to save another, very lost, person.  Joan realizes that she can’t do it, she can’t save this other person, and she confronts God, saying, “But I’m no hero.  I’m just me.” The response of the God character in the episode is very, very simply, “Yes.  Maybe that is enough.”

             Jesus tells us, “Come and see”, and so we are invited to follow in the way of Jesus, to act with love and compassion to all we meet, to answer the call for our lives to be God’s people.  But as with the Magi, as with MLK, as with all people who truly follow the star that God creates to guide us, it all begins with those first verbs that Jesus utters in the book of John, “Come and see”.  We are called to start by taking the first step forward.  To answer the call as Moses did when he saw the burning bush and chose to step aside to see.  “Come and see”.  Have curiosity about what God puts in front of you.  Have curiosity about the challenges that are there.  Have curiosity and then see.  Come and see, my friends.  For God has amazing plans laid out for you.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

Changing Sense of Call

 

Luke 5:1-11

Mark 1:14-20

               Today we have two stories about the call of the fishermen disciples.  

               In the story from Luke, we see that Jesus initiates the call by asking for a favor: “Jesus boarded one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon and then asked him to row out a little distance from the shore.”  After preaching to the crowds, he makes another request, “Row out farther, into the deep water, and drop your nets for a catch.”  Jesus initiates, and it is possible at any point that Simon Peter could have said no.  He does resist in response to that second request, “Well, we’ve already worked hard all night and caught nothing!”  There’s no guarantee that he will answer the request, the call, the initiation from Jesus with a “yes”.  That is the risk that God takes when approaching us, as God always does.  The risk on God’s part is that we will say “no”.  But Simon Peter, though grumbling, does not say “no”.  He answers with “well, I don’t think will work, but because you are asking me, I’ll do it.” 

               The result of his saying “yes” to Jesus then is a catch that far exceeds expectations, that is far beyond even any hopes that he might have had.  The catch is so big that it is, literally, overwhelming their boats and threatening to sink them.

               And then Jesus calls them to follow.  And again, despite what they have just seen, the abundance they have just witnessed, the overflowing-beyond-expectation catch they have just made, they still have the option to say “no” once more.  And Simon Peter again has his doubts, his fears.  “Leave me, Lord, for I am a sinner” he declares.  But in the end, remembering all that has come to pass, he again says “yes” expecting that their catch, this time of people, will continue to be huge.

               There is so much in this story.  Their fears, their hesitations, their responses are reminiscent of the prophets, almost all of whom have similar beginning stories.  The stories of Isaiah, Jonah, Jeremiah, etc. all begin with God’s call: a relationship and an invitation into a calling that is initiated by God.  All of these prophets, too, respond with doubt, with hesitation.  But in spite of their doubt, in spite of their hesitation, in spite of everything they, too, ultimately say “yes” to this call from God.  As a result, with all of them, the catch is huge, the expectations that they had are far exceeded.  The unexplored areas of potential beyond their ideas of what is possible, of the limits of resources, knowledge and energy are far beyond their vision. 

And so, the question is brought back to us: in what ways do we limit ourselves, see walls that maybe aren’t really there, see limitations or declare, as Simon Peter did, “We already tried that and it didn’t work!”?  In what ways, when new ideas or possibilities are presented to us, do we roll our eyes and squash those visions, those opportunities and invitations before they have been given space?  How do we fail to remember that past times are not this time, and situations that maybe made things fail before may be different now?  That specific calls are for a time, for a season, and while a new vision may sound like the old one, if God calls us to try again, it’s just possible that God’s ideas are in fact for now, and that they might be new, stemming from new visions, and new hopes for what might be done now, in this time and in this place, even when they sound similar.  In what ways, then, have we limited where and how we will find God?

               In my lectionary group, one of our pastors shared that at his church they have a food pantry.  And one week when one of the men came to pick up his food, he asked if he could use the kitchen to cook a specific meal.  The man was without house, and he did not have the ability to make himself the food he wanted.  Using the kitchen at the church, though, was off limits.  It had “never been done before” and at another church where the pastor had served it “had been tried once and had failed” so the invitation to open that door again was unappealing and, frankly, against that church’s rules.  But my friend decided to make an exception this one time.  The man invited my friend to stay with him while he used the kitchen, while he cooked his meal, and they began to talk.  The man was cooking a wondrous meal with his hands, but his words, my friend discovered, were also a rich feast in which he was  creating real visions based on understanding and insight.  They ended up discussing scripture, talking through that week’s sermon and this homeless man gave my friend new insights and new examples to use.  And as my friend listened to this man, he heard God’s words in new and different and empowering ways.  This simple decision on the part of my friend to allow this seemingly uneducated, dirty, lost man access to the kitchen led into new understandings from a man who was extremely intelligent, but more, very wise and who had gifts to give in terms of vision, ideas and insights.  My friend was given a glimpse of God, simply because he said “yes” to an unusual request. 

Just as the catch that the would-be disciples drew was big enough not just for the fisherfolk, but big enough to feed the community in its abundance, the gifts given to my friend were for his whole church community as well. 

I want to point out something else here: fishing for people, calling the disciples, offering call to us, is never coercive or domineering.  Jesus did not insist that they do what he asked.  He did not insist that they follow.  He initiated, engaged, but in the end, the choice was theirs.  Call from God as we see in this story is personal, relational work. The result of following is healing and abundance.  So when one starts to say yes, the results are impossible to ignore: the catch is so big and so clear that, while we still always have choice, the reality of the call is made abundant.  I think about the times when I have heard God urging me to do something.  Even with something as simple as donating money, I have often found that when I have answered a call to give, when I have felt that tugging at my heart to be generous, that whatever I have given has been returned to me in abundance.  Just like with the disciples, that doesn’t make the next time I am asked to do something necessarily easy.  It is hard, even with proofs offered again and again of the abundant response of God, it is still hard to trust that when we are asked again to do something, to give something, to follow something, that God’s abundance will still carry us.  That’s what faith is: trusting that when we answer yes, that God will be with us and will be there to carry us even when there is risk, danger and potential injury.  God will be with us.  And the promise is that no matter what struggles we face, that following with God is better than saying no and going the journey alone.

At the same time, I also want to be clear here that there is a cost to saying “yes”.  While the abundance of God abounds, there is also a cost.  In this story, the men had worked all night.  They were tired, probably exhausted, frankly, and they were being asked to set out in their boats once more, to a deeper area, to go out again.  Then after they have worked hard again to bring in the fish, Jesus calls them to follow him in all that he does: not to rest, not to go back to their families, but to leave everything and follow him.  They did leave everything, staring with and including the huge fish catch that they had just had, to go with Jesus.  Eventually many of them follow Jesus to the cross and end by losing their very lives.  While the catch is huge, the abundance of God is beyond compare, there is also a price to be paid in this world for following on the way of Jesus, and that cost is sometimes everything that we are and have.  And still, God’s promise remains that this choice is better than to say “no”.  But that is something we can only learn for certain through the doing, through the experiencing of it.

I want to note here that the son’s of Zebedee who fished with their family boat and supported their family left that family to follow.  As we heard at the end of the story in Mark, “At that very moment he called them. They followed him, leaving their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired workers.”  What is interesting here is that the name “Zebedee” means “gift giver” and when we discussed this this week at my lectionary group, one of my colleagues pointed out that all names in the Bible have meaning. “What gift did Zebedee give in this situation?” he asked, to which I quickly responded, “what he gave was his sons!  He released them to go with Jesus, to follow their calls, despite the great loss to himself.”  Sometimes, perhaps often, our children have calls, have a sense of a passionate calling from God that takes them away from us, that takes them into areas that frighten us or that we don’t understand.  But part of our call, and our gift to God and to the world in which they live, is in letting them go: letting them take the paths that God has for them.  Our gift, as was Zebedee’s gift, is our children to the world, and to God’s kingdom, even when we don’t recognize or understand it.  That too, comes with a great price: the call to launch our children and allow them to follow their own call.  I think about the movie Billy Elliot in which the father did not understand the call of his son to be a dancer.  I think about Bend it like Beckham, in which the girls’ parents similarly did not understand their daughter’s call to play soccer.  It is the hardest part of a parent’s call, to allow our children to follow their own paths, their own calling.  But that is a call that we as parents are often given: we are called to send them with love, to support them in their dreams even when we don’t understand, to look for God’s presence and God’s actions within their choices and to let them go.  Not easy, but it too is part of following God, trusting God to lead them in their own path, their own calls.

I also want to point out that while the translations of both say “I will make you fish for people” the actual words in the Greek should be translated more accurately, “I will make you become fishers of people”.  This is not just about actions, this is about one’s very identity.  In following Christ, in following our call, it is not just simply that what we do, how we work, our jobs, actions or behaviors might change.  Our very identity changes.  We become something else, something new.    

The journey of call and response is a journey of relationship.  As I said, Jesus initiated with the disciples as God initiates with us.  And while it was a one-time event of saying “yes” to Jesus, it was also a life-time process.  Just as Jesus’ coming was both the kingdom is here and the kingdom is coming;  just as our relationship with Christ is both now and a journey forward, our call is a choice we make now but also a continued choice.  Also, call changes as we change and grow and as times change and grow.  The needs of the world change, we change, and our call changes with it.  That means we don’t and won’t always get it right.  It also means that it is very important that we continue to deepen in our study, in our commitment to learning and growing in our faith.  Too many churches emphasize the one time joining and forget the process then of deepening, studying, growing in our faith.  But both are important, for all Christians.   

Remember that the Simon Peter who said yes to Jesus’ call was also the Peter who was deeply and mistakenly confused at the transfiguration and who denied Jesus at the end.  Jesus ministry was affected by those he was with; those who needed him in specific ways, who thwarted him in specific ways, who were human with him in their own individual, unique ways.  The path of call is two way: our decisions to say “yes or no” end up affecting the path that Jesus walks too.  And for that reason, our choices to say yes or no are extremely important and should not be taken lightly.

Finally, I want to point out once more that Jesus final words of invitation to the disciples in the Luke story begin with the words, once more, “be not afraid”. We are always called to step forward in faith, to leave fear behind and risk saying “yes” when a call presents itself to us.  Listen for God’s call for you today.  It will be filled with abundance, but it will also require risk, and possible sacrifice.  Be not afraid and step into your call with faith, with hope, and with love.  Amen.

God's Call for Our Lives

 Isaiah 6:1-8

Luke 5:1-11

            Today we have two scriptures that both show a strong call from God to follow.  Unlike many of our other call stories, in both of these stories, those called also easily take on the call they’ve been given.  Isaiah, we are told, readily jumps up and proclaims, “here I am, Lord!  Send me!”  And in the Luke passage, we are told, “As soon as they brought the boats to the shore, they left everything and followed Jesus.”  Unlike with most of our prophets, like Jonah and Jeremiah, for example, in neither of these stories is there hesitation or even a moment in which those called think twice. And perhaps that is because the calls in both are so clear, so forceful, so undeniable.  In the Isaiah passage, he is given a vision of deep, complete and life-changing forgiveness.  And in the story in Luke, the fishermen have this amazing example of the abundance and life-giving fulfillment of fishing with complete success, after a long time of failed fishing, when they choose to follow what Jesus has asked them to do.  So both most of felt like pretty safe calls to accept.  One chooses to follow someone who can completely erase one’s past.  The others choose to follow someone who provides abundance for them.

            Have any of you ever had an experience like that?  Where the call was so clear, so undeniable and so compelling that you simply could not refuse?  These are not times when prayers were answered.  This isn’t about asking for something and having it show up.  In neither of these situations did it appear that the people approached were the initiators.  They weren’t asking someone to show them the way, they weren’t asking for Jesus or God to throw their lives upside down and bring them into a new calling, a new situation.  But in both cases, they were called in amazing and undeniable ways.  For Isaiah, his choice to say “yes” meant a life time of confronting injustices and declaring that God cares what people do to and for those who are poorer, have less power and fewer resources, those being treated unfairly or oppressively.  For Peter, James and John, we are told that they left everything they had: family, work, their homes – everything to follow Jesus. 

            Has there been a time when you have felt so moved, so called that you left everything in order to start something new?  There probably has for a few of you.  And for many more of us there have been smaller versions of this, perhaps.  For example, moving to a new country or across the country in order to start something new, not completely leaving behind family, maybe, but still taking a big risk in order to start something different.  It is still the case that immigrants often struggle unbelievable hardships in order to come here, risking everything in order to do so.

            It is much easier to take those risks, and to jump into something new when there has been a deep sign, and when there has been a promise of abundance (especially in a time of scarcity or deep struggles and pain), like Jesus gave to the disciples or like God gave to Isaiah with his abundant forgiveness.  But those just don’t come as clearly or as often for most of us, do they? 

            The call of most people we would consider to be heroes in some ways does happen like this.  A job shows up, a situation presents itself, and our heroes are those who step up to meet the challenges set before them, who may feel they have no choice but to respond in those situations, when they show.  I realize this is just a story, but when I think about people responding to a call that shows up in front of them, the Dr. Seuss story, “Horton hears a Who” often comes to mind for me first.  Horton was just minding his own business when he heard the cry of distress from a tiny person on a clover flower.  He could have ignored it, but he chose not to.  As he says, “because a person’s a person, no matter how small.”  He protects the people who are so small they can’t be seen by him, but only heard, from the elements, from other animals, from unkindness again and again.  He, himself, suffers pain and humiliation but he isn’t willing to give up caring for the Whos because he knows that to do so would mean their destruction.  He is the hero in the story not because that’s who he has always been, and not because he sought out being a hero, but because he wasn’t willing to allow the destruction or harm of these very small people that couldn’t even be seen.  That’s what heroes do: when they stand up for injustices, they often are standing up for those whom we would see as “small” or unimportant or not valuable.  That stepping up and standing up when there is an opportunity to do so: that is the difference between a hero and someone who isn’t.

            But while our calls may not look heroic, still, every single person has a call.  I’m sure you are all probably familiar with Frederick Buechner’s comment that call is where a person’s deepest passion and the world’s deepest need meet.  I always add into this that our deepest gifts need to be part of that too.  And the example I most often give is of the people on American Idol who have the passion for singing and see that the world is fed deeply by art, but who can’t carry a tune in a bucket.  Our gifts must be part of any true calling.  And a true call does not usually leave us alone.  Most of the time God gives us more than one chance to say yes to those calls.

            As I was thinking about call, I was reminded of this page in Mitch Album’s book, Have a little faith (p234. New York: Hyperion, 2009):

It is summer and we are sitting in his office.  I ask him why he thinks he became a rabbi. 

He counts on his finders.

“Number one, I always like people.

“Number two, I love gentleness.

“Number three, I have patience.

“Number four, I love teaching.

“Number five, I am determined in my faith.

“Number six, it connects me to my past.

“Number seven – and lastly – it allows me to fulfill the message of our tradition: to live good, to do good, and to be blessed.”

I didn’t hear God in there.

He smiles.

“God was there before number one.”

I believe that is true for all of us, whether we are aware of it or not.  When we are really, truly, deeply fulfilling the call of our hearts, the call that God placed there before we were born, before we were made, before we knew ourselves that we had a passion or even a purpose, then it shows.  It shows in the passion with which we work.  It shows in the love with which we tackle any calling.  It shows in our joy and in the time we commit to our work.  It shows in all that we are and all that we do. 

I think about certain people I’ve met who are absolutely doing the work of a calling.  It doesn’t actually matter what the work is.  You can see it in a person.  My kids had a preschool teacher who was so incredibly gifted at her work.  She loved the kids, the kids loved her, and that love and care shone from her on a daily basis.  A real estate person I knew years ago absolutely loved helping people find homes that would work for them. She did her work with passion and joy.

How do you tell the difference between something you just simply love to do and a real call?  I think it comes down to whether or not the particular task you are doing does, indeed, meet a need of the world.  Does the task you are doing just serve you?  Or does it really help people, feed people, care for people, provide for them?  Even the real estate agent I mentioned: she took her work as a call: she worked hard to make sure that people found houses that they could afford but that also would serve them long term.  She didn’t hesitate to tell people, even if it meant loss of a sale for her, when she thought the neighborhood was questionable or the house wouldn’t grow with a growing family.  She didn’t hesitate to give realtor discounts if she thought it would help a family get into a house that would work for them.  She really saw her work as a call and she lived that out fully.

That doesn’t mean that when we are following a call, we are happy all the time.  It doesn’t mean that our work is easy all the time.  In the movie, Keeping the Faith, there is a wonderful conversation between a young priest and an older priest.  The young priest doubts his call into the priesthood after falling in love with a woman who is his friend.  Nothing happened between the two, but he found that the very fact of falling in love made him doubt a call that included celibacy.  He said to his older priest mentor, “If she had kissed me back, I would have given it all up.  She didn’t, but I keep thinking about what you said in the seminary that the life of a priest is hard and if you can see yourself doing anything else you should do that.”

The older priest responded, “Well that’s my recruitment speech which is good when you are starting out because it makes you feel like a marine!  But the truth is you can never tell yourself there is only one that you could be.  If you’re a priest or if you marry a woman, it is the same challenge.  You cannot make a real commitment unless you accept that it is a choice that you make again and again and again.  I’ve been a priest over 40 years, and I fall in love at least once every decade.”

That is part of call too – those doubts, those times of struggle.  The older priest in the movie went on to say that God would give the younger priest his answer.  And I think that in times of doubt, God ultimately does give us answers: but often the answer comes in the form of a deeper question: what do I do, what can I do, that serves God and God’s people the most?  Where do we find God the most in our work, our tasks, our lives? Where is our passion and gifts that meet the world’s deepest needs?  And how do we do that work to the best of our ability?

Josie Jones was a very rich woman who felt and answered God’s call to serve the homeless population in Oakland.  She felt certain that God was calling her to do so out of her own resources.  So, she gave everything that she had and opened a transitional house for homeless women trying to move out and beyond their situation.  She got them into job training programs, enrolled in school, she helped them to take control of their lives and to move permanently from homelessness into full and productive living.  When Josie heard this call, she had everything.  She had a huge mansion and very nice cars.  She had a good job as a lawyer, but she was also independently wealthy and very, very comfortable.  Still, she heard God’s call.  And so she began by taking out her savings to being this program.  But as she served and worked with these women, she ended up giving more and more to fund it.  She did not want to take funds from government grants because she found that most grants came with a great deal of caveats, demanding a list of specifics that would not have given Josie the freedom she needed to really serve, empower and change these women’s lives.  Josie became materially poorer and poorer, personally, giving up her cars, her large house, her beautiful clothing, everything, until she lived truly as poorly and simply as the women she was serving with her care.  But in becoming like them, she was able to serve them and relate to them and care for them in a way that truly

transformed lives.  Josie died just a few years ago, and until the very end she described herself as one of the richest women alive.  God had not filled her life with popularity, with fame, or, in the end, with wealth.  God had instead filled her life, daily, with visions of the resurrection as she saw new life beginning and transforming around her and within her: bringing her life meaning, love, life.

As I think about people like Josie Jones, I am reminded of an Amy Grant/Gary Chapman song that I have always loved entitled, “All I ever have to be”:  “

When the weight of all my dreams is resting heavy on my head,

and the thoughtful words of help and hope have all been nicely said. 

But I'm still hurting, wondering if I'll ever be the one I think I am…

Then you gently re-remind me that you've made me from the first,

And the more I try to be the best the more I get the worst.

And I realize the good in me, is only there because of who you are. Who you are...

And all I ever have to be is what you've made me.

Any more or less would be a step out of your plan.

As you daily recreate me, help me always keep in mind

That I only have to do what I can find.

And all I ever have to be:

 All I have to be:

 All I ever have to be Is what you've made me.” 

Beautiful words about a life lesson to let go and let God so that God’s purpose can be made manifest in your life.

Sometimes we look too hard for the right call when if we were to relax a little and see what comes before us, we would know what it is we are being called to do in any one moment.  I think about this with my own life.  I would hope that being a pastor is a call: I’ve always wanted to be a pastor, I love my work, I enjoy almost all aspects of it.  But there is another part of my work that I also think is a call and that’s the one I want to talk with you about today.  The one job that I have never sought but that keeps coming to ME, is that of playing the piano (and organ), or, in particular, accompanying church choirs.  Even when I think, again and again, that that part of my work is done, it pops up for me again.  When I was serving my church in Ohio as pastor, our organist graduated and moved on to another state for graduate school.  My congregation asked if I would fill in until they found someone else.  Months later, they finally admitted to me that they didn’t want someone else and hoped that I would continue to play.  Then, as many of you know, I was asked this last fall by one of the choir directors at St. Bonaventure if I would be willing to accompany their resurrection choir that primarily plays for memorial services.  I struggled with this decision.  Even after I had asked session approval and had played for them for a few weeks, I struggled with this.  I’m already so busy after all… But it is an ecumenical choir and a few of our members sing with that choir.  One Monday morning when I was just on the verge of deciding that this was not something I could continue to do, one of our members who sings in that choir approached me and told me that the work we were doing, of giving music and meaning to people who were grieving, was deeply important, was a true calling from God.  In particular, he said, my using my piano playing in this way was what God was asking me to do.  I am sure he has no idea how much those words hit me, or that it has kept me playing for this choir.  Playing music is not the job I think I should have.  It’s not the work I want to say that I am “called” to do, and yet it keeps presenting itself: showing up before me in ways I don’t ask for or expect.

What are you called to do?  Whatever your gifts, your purposes, your life lessons, God calls you to use them, to see them, to grow with them and to work with them for the common good.  So my challenge for all of us is to look this next week, is to reflect on the callings God has for you specifically.  Thanks be to God for the prophets, the teachers, the nurturers, the servers, for all God’s people, since we are all called.  God help us to fulfill Your purposes for us.  Amen.

Keeping My Commandments - Sunday's Sermon

Mark 11:27-12:24

John 14:15-21

Today’s passage from John starts with the words, “If you love me, keep my commands.”  Then towards the end of the passage, again, Jesus says, “Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me.”  These are important words or Jesus would not have said them repeatedly.  He wants it to be clear – you show Jesus that you love him, you show God that you love God by doing what God calls you to do, by doing what Jesus told us and showed us to do.

Not to say this is easy.  It is simple.  All we have to do is love.  But simple is not the same as easy. And while it may be fairly easy to love the people here in church, in our faith community, to love our friends and our family members (most of the time!), it is hard to love the unlovable.  It is hard to love the people on the street, or people who scare us or people who are dirty or smelly, people who are unpredictable, people who just want things from us, people who are demanding or asking, people who are unkind.  Sometimes it is hard to love people with whom we disagree.  And it is really hard to love people who have done things we hate, or people who have hurt us or our loved ones.  Showing these people the same love and care that we show ourselves, our families and our friends is far, very far, from easy.

But Jesus is clear – the way we show him that we love him is to do what he asks which is to love God and love neighbor as ourselves.

         In the blog “Wellness by choice” Susan McMorris told this story: One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was really friendly. 

        So I asked, 'Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!  And then he was nasty about it and yelled at you!' This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, 'The Law of the Garbage Truck.'  He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment.  As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you. Don't take it personally, he said. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets. The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. 

        McMorris ends the story this way, “Life's too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, So ... Love the people who treat you right. Pray for the ones who don't.”

         That’s where the story ends.  But I think we have to take it a step farther.  It is not enough to just pray for those who treat you wrong.  We are called to love them like the taxi driver, to show them care, even when we don’t want to, even when we don’t think we can.  So our prayers might more appropriately start with praying for ourselves: praying that we are given the strength to show love and care towards those who hurt us or those we love.  Pray for ourselves the strength and then take up the challenge and work hard to treat every neighbor who crosses our paths with love.

        Dan Clark tells this story in “Chicken Soup for the Woman’s Soul”... One cold evening during the holiday season, a little boy about six or seven was standing out in front of a store window.  The little child had no shoes and his clothes were mere rags.  A young woman hurrying by to get home to her own family was none the less caught by the needs  of the little boy and the longing she read in his pale brown eyes.  She took the child by the hand and led him into the store.  There she bought him some new shoes and a complete suit of warm clothing.   They had come back outside into the street and the woman said to the child, “Now you can go home and have a very happy holiday.”

        The little boy looked up at her and asked, “Are you God, Ma’am?”

        She smiled down at him and answered, “No, son, I’m just one of God’s children.”

        The little boy then said, “I knew you had to be some relation.”

        

         A father told this story about his child, Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled.

“Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, “Do you think they'll let me play?” I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his disabilities.  I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, “We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.”  Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact. The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates.. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, “Shay, run to first! Run to first!” Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base.. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, “Run to second, run to second!” Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head. Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home..

All were screaming, “Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay”

Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, “Run to third! Shay, run to third!”

As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, “Shay, run home! Run home!”

Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team. “That day”, said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, “the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world.”

Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making his father so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!”

            Those kids got it.  They understood what it was to love someone else on that day.  May we be able to do the same. Make your life in the image of God, the God of love.  In doing so, you honor God, you show Jesus that you love him.  Amen.

Doing All that Jesus Asks

1 Peter 2:2-10

John 14:1-14

               Today we have more passages that follow up on what it is to be people on “the Way”, to follow Jesus as The Way and to be close to God and our understanding of God through that path.  Today we are told that we know God in knowing Jesus.  We know the WAY by seeing how Jesus travelled his life, and being willing to do the same.  We know it by living it.   Bonhoeffer said, “Being a Christian is less about cautiously avoiding sin than about courageously and actively doing God's will.”(The Cost of Discipleship)

We know this is not easy.  We know this because we see how many people no longer come to church. I think Church is too hard, frankly, for many folk.  If we are genuine about our faith, about living that out, we won’t see most of our culture in church because faith and living, following God’s path, are commitments that take time, dedication, intentionality and a genuine desire to know and be in relationship with God.  Yes, the rewards are great.  Life fully lived in all its abundance, life fully embraced, life eternal, relationships with God and God’s people.  The rewards surpass everything.  But unless you have experienced and lived those rewards, fewer people believe in them, understand them, or are willing to do the work of faith and action in order to achieve them. 

               We are part of a culture of instant gratification.  And there is little room in that kind of fast paced, “I want everything and I want it now” activity for time with God, for intentional focusing on faith, for living out that faith with any kind of commitment.  Much of our culture lives a very shallow existence, where taking time to ponder, to talk to God and more to LISTEN to God just simply don’t fit in.  Usually what jars people out of complacency is some kind of tragedy, some kind of suffering.  There are reasons why there are so many death bed conversions.  The fact of suffering, the experience of deep pain can finally jolt people out of a surface level existence and into the recognition that they need to connect to something bigger than themselves, that life has no meaning without a deeper vision and connection which a life of faith can give. 

               A few years ago I was able to go and hear the Christian rock band, Mercy Me.  The lead singer, Bart Millard, shared with us about his childhood experience of being the son of an extremely abusive father.  Bart said, “Calling him a monster would be an understatement”.  But his father was diagnosed with cancer when Bart was a sophomore in high school.  And that led his father to a deep and complete conversion.  Bart said that by the time his father died three years later, he not only respected his father but saw him as the man he would most like to be like.  His father, through his conversion, became the best man Bart had ever known.  That’s what faith can do.  It can change us, turn us around completely, make us new in the truest sense of the word.  But I don’t think most people in our culture these days WANT to be new or changed until something happens that forces them to realize that they simply cannot continue to live the shallow way that we are encouraged to live by our culture and media.

               A fellow pastor and I had a conversation some years ago in which she said that she believes it is actually good news that people are no longer coming to church simply because it is “the thing to do”.  It is good news that the people who remain in our churches are here because they genuinely get the need and value of faith and being connected with others in that faith.  It means the church, when it stops being about “saving its own life” out of fear for the losses in numbers that are being experienced, can now actually BE the church God calls us to be rather than country club organizations and institutions.  And she’s right.  We can be freed to genuinely follow the WAY, living as Christ would have us live when we are not just simply another part of main stream culture.  We no longer have to just fit in with what society would tell us to do but can really live lives on the Way.

               I started thinking about all the things that this congregation does.  It is an amazing and impressive list for a small, aging congregation.  We being with prayer.  We have two adult Christian education opportunities each week as well that study and pray together.  We’ve been offering two different types of worship services each week plus Taize during advent and lent.  We begin with prayer and worship and are grounded in that relationship to God.  And then we continue in “the Way” of following Jesus with all of the service that we do, in the name of Jesus, for other people.  Between the many ways we support hunger issues and other deep needs of people – Winter Nights, our community meal here, the one we support in Pittsburg, supporting Contra Costa Interfaith Housing as well as Monument Crisis Center and Heifer project, going on mission days, our PFLAG meetings, providing gifts over Christmas – to our outreach and education of children, families and adults of all ages through things like Godly Play and our family program, our men’s group, our women’s support group, our quilting group, our faith and film nights, our fellowship opportunities such as progressive dinner, church picnic, Oktober Fest.  Our deacons as well as those who aren’t on deacons serve the congregation with food, transportation and visits.  There is so much that we “do” to be on the way.  And all of it is a way of following Christ and striving to be close to God.

               The people that we see portrayed in our TV sit-coms and media don’t have the time and energy to give like this.  They can’t be bothered with caring for God’s people and it would throw them out of a comfort zone in which clothing, and dances and make up and money and “fun fun fun” are the primary values.  But that kind of shallow existence doesn’t lead to life, won’t lead to life.  And for those of us who have chosen a different way, we know this, we experience this, we live an existence that is richer and fuller because of it.  We live an existence in which we see God by seeing Jesus, and by living as Jesus calls us to live. 

               And the thing is, what we do makes a difference.  At my pastor’s group one week, one of our pastor members was saying, “How do we convince people to come to church?”  And the answer?  It is mostly our actions, it is the things we do outside of these walls that are different and set us apart that get people’s attention.  Everything we do matters.  Everything we do makes a difference.  Are we kind?  Do we show even our enemies love?  Are we giving?  These things matter.  And while it may become frustrating at times feeling like we haven’t brought people in those doors and sometimes it can be hard to see how we have impacted those around us, we do.  The lives we lead, following on The Way of Christ make a difference. 

               In the Movie, “Two Weeks Notice” Sandra Bullock plays a character who has actively followed on “the way” as she understands it.  She has stood up for the oppressed, been a voice for the voiceless, fought against injustice at every level.  But there comes a moment at which she hits a place of despair.  She is done.  Her father is upset by her decision to no longer live a life of action.  And he confronts her saying, “we didn’t teach you to sit on the sidelines.”  She argues that what she does makes no difference.  To which he responds, “Then you change your tactics.  As long as people can change, the world can change.”  She says, “But what if people can’t change?” 

               Can people change?  First of all, yes, we know they can.  The father in the movie I just quoted proceeded by declaring, “Let me put it this way.  I am eating a piece of cheesecake made entirely of soy.  I hate it.  But because of my health issues, I am doing it.”  Yes, people do change.  But the second thing is that again, that is not our job.  Our job is to follow in the Way.  We have to leave the results of that up to God.  And God, as we know, is pretty good at changing people. 

               There was an article on Facebook a while ago about the top things that pastors fear.  And the number one thing on that list was that we fear we are irrelevant, that we make no difference.  My guess, though, is that every person of faith wonders this at some point.  Does what I do matter?  Does it make a difference?  Do the efforts I put into feeding and caring and housing and listening and studying and praying – do these efforts matter? 

               They do.

               They matter to the people whose lives you touch by serving them for that moment.  And they matter to you because they change you and bring you closer to God.  Because of all of that, they most importantly matter to God.  They matter to God because God delights in people following Jesus on “the Way”.  And they matter to God because God delights in your moving closer to wholeness, which you do by being closer to God in following Christ’s way.  And they matter to God because God calls you to be the people of Christ by following in this way.