Sermons from Mission Hills UCC San Diego, California Rev. Dr. David Bahr [email protected] January 30, 2022 “Pick Someone Else” Jeremiah 1: 4-10 - The Message This is what God said to Jeremiah: 5 “Before I shaped you in the womb, I knew all about you. Before you even saw your first light of day, I had holy plans for you: To be a prophet to the nations-- that’s what I had in mind for you.” 6 But I said, “Hold it, God! Look at me. I don’t know anything. I’m only a boy!” 7-8 And God told me back, “Don’t say, ‘I’m only a boy.’ I’ll tell you where to go and you’ll go there. I’ll tell you what to say and you’ll say it. I’ll be right there, looking after you.” Don’t be afraid of a soul. That’s God’s Decree. 9-10 Then God reached out, touched my mouth, and said, “Look! I’ve just put my words in your mouth! Do you see what I’ve done? I’ve given you a job to do: To pull up and tear down, To take apart and demolish, And then to start over, building and planting.” When I work with people who want to go into the ordained ministry, I ask them, how many times have you told God no. If they say none, I’m immediately skeptical of their calling. It’s a huge red flag. Callings involve push and pull, saying yes, but especially no. Yes, I know there are times when we jump right up because we know it’s right. We have an epiphany; one of those “I never knew it was exactly what I’ve always wanted to do” moments of recognition. For example, perhaps that’s what some of the disciples thought. Jesus said to Simon and Andrew, James and John, “Come follow me,” and they jumped right up and left their things behind and followed Jesus. They had just been waiting for someone to ask. Little did know how difficult it would be! But more often, it’s like Moses. He said no because, “I’m not eloquent.” Jonah not only said no, he ran in the opposite direction. He finally changed his mind while sitting in the gooey guts of a fish, but only with very childish reluctance. Sarah laughed at the absurdity. The Bible is full of people who had excuses to say no. Or maybe not exactly no, but who asked, “How can this be?” Elizabeth was too old. Mary was too young. Just like Jeremiah who said: I’m just a boy. How old was Jeremiah? Various sources suggest he was between 13 and 17 years old. But he was still older than when Josiah became the king. The first three verses of the Book of Jeremiah list the names and dates of kings and priests. “The call to Jeremiah came in the 13th year of the reign of King Josiah.” You want to hear the rest? No! It’s boring. And that’s why those verses aren’t included in the assigned reading. And yet, historical context is always important. Interestingly, the timing means Josiah became king at age 8. So, Jeremiah already had at least double the life experience of the king. But, though context is important, it’s not really the point. The point is: Like many people called to some role in the world, Jeremiah had an excuse for why God should pick someone else. But God doesn’t care about excuses – Jeremiah’s or ours. God simply said, I’ve given you a job to do: To pull up and tear down, to take apart and demolish, And then to start over, building and planting. Congressman John Lewis knew about that. He said, when I was growing up, my mother and my father and my grandparents would tell us, don’t try to change things. "Don't get in trouble! That's the way it is!" They feared retribution by white supremacists for his activism and he actually was estranged from his family for quite a long time. But, he said, “I didn't like the way it was, so I had to do something about it. Through sit-ins, the freedom rides, marches, I got arrested 40 times during the '60s and arrested five times while serving in Congress. I've been beaten and left bloody and unconscious here and there. On the march from Selma to Montgomery on that bridge, I was prepared to die for what I believed in. When you see something that is not right, not fair, not just, you have an obligation to do something, to get in trouble — good trouble.” Did you know that Congressman Lewis was actually ordained in his church? He was 15 years old. His Baptist church didn’t operate in the same way as ours with ordination. But Lewis was not called to preach. God called him to get in good trouble. And if there was ever anyone who knew exactly what God called him to do, it was him: “to pull up and tear down white supremacy to take apart and demolish” it. And then to “build and plant” the Beloved Community of all ages, tongues, and races. Jeremiah and John Lewis. The Congressman shows that having a calling is much more than some form of ministry in the church. We all have a calling; a way God is asking us to change the world. It might be through our choice of a professional life or a volunteer commitment. It might be with financial contributions. It might be as a parent or a guardian to raise a confident loving child or as an aunt or uncle of a troubled teenager. It could be a kind word to our neighbor or helping a stranger we see on the street. When have you felt called? One of the best definitions of a calling was from Frederick Buechner: “The place God calls you is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”[1] To ask, what is your deepest joy? To ask, what is the world’s deepest need. Where do they meet? That’s your calling. Have you ever felt called? Were you afraid it? Did you try to give God an excuse? Pick someone else. How did you work your way through it? Or maybe you haven’t. Yet. Is there something standing in the way of your calling? Let me ask: What has been your greatest accomplishment? That’s not the question. What is the highest degree you have attained? That’s not the question. If you reached your dream salary or acquired your dream home, would you finally be happy? The question asked of us is not about our greatest accomplishments or achievements but what is your deepest joy. And where does it meet the world’s deepest need? Amanda Gorman has one of the most brilliant gifted minds of our times. The joy of her words sooth the despair of our times. It was just a year ago that she came blazing onto the scene as the youngest poet ever at a presidential inauguration. But did you know she almost said no? She told the New York Times that, among other things, she was “scared of failing my people.” Covid was still raging. Just days before, domestic terrorists had stormed the very Capitol steps where she would deliver her poem. They wouldn’t take kindly to, as she described herself, “a skinny black girl” speaking from “their house.” She knew she would now be a very visible symbol to white supremacists. Friends “joked” to her that she should buy a bullet-proof vest. Her mom practiced drills with her crouching behind the furniture to shield her body from bullets. She was torn. Should she do it? She struggled because she got texts from some people praising the Lord and from others that she was pathologically insane. No wonder she almost said no.[2] But she concluded, “Maybe being brave enough doesn’t mean lessening my fear but listening to it. I closed my eyes in bed and let myself utter all the leviathans that scared me, both monstrous and miniscule.” She concluded, “I’m a firm believer that often terror is trying to tell us [that there is] a force greater than despair.” She added, “maybe fear is just love trying its best in the dark.”[3] “In this way, I look at fear not as cowardice but as a call forward, a summons to fight for what we hold dear.” The brilliance of Amanda Gorman’s words are that she is as equally inspiring as she is truthful. Listen to this: “If you’re alive, you’re afraid. If you’re not afraid, then you’re not paying attention. The only thing we have to fear is having no fear itself.” That’s an interesting juxtaposition to Franklin Delano Roosevelt. At his inauguration, he famously said, “we have nothing to fear but fear itself.” The Bible says “perfect love casts out all fear.” Angels repeatedly proclaim: “Do not fear. Don’t be afraid.” But Gorman said, “The only thing we have to fear is having no fear.” But she’s not talking about being fearless, of knowingly taking risks. Willing, as John Lewis was, to die for the cause. No, she’s talking about choosing to be blind to the world. Ignorance may be bliss, but such bliss ignores God’s command: To pull up and tear down, to take apart and demolish, And then to start over, building and planting.” You know, I love the Buechner quote about our calling as the meeting of our deep gladness with the world’s deepest hunger. And yes, that’s true. But then I think of John Lewis’ words about obligation. If we see wrong then we are obligated to get in some good trouble, joyful or not. Justice work is often hard and the progress is incremental, even beyond our seeing. That’s faith. Plus, can I say, sometimes things just need to get done and someone has to do them. Perhaps we can find satisfaction in a job well done, but not necessarily gladness. I don’t know, I’m starting to question the privilege behind the idea of deepest joy and need. Perhaps it is too rooted in a comfortable life. Do we all have such luxury? How about simply recognizing that when we have the gifts and skills needed wherever they are most needed at just the right time, that's not the time to say pick someone else. That's the time to say, "Here I am, Lord. Send me." What greater joy could we have than being an instrument of God on earth? God gave Jeremiah a job to do. Like many, Jeremiah wanted God to pick someone else. Maybe that’s how we feel at times too. So, what should we do? As Julie said before reading Jeremiah today: We should listen for God’s Word- The words of call, The words of promise, The words of faith, The words of hope, and especially the words of love. Then make them the words of your life. [1] Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC, HarperSan Francisco, 1972, page 95 [2] https://www.nytimes.com/2022/01/20/opinion/amanda-gorman-poem-inauguration.html [3] The order of the words is slightly altered
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