Sunday, February 4, 2024
Spirit of Hope Lutheran Church, Lincoln, NE
Fifth Sunday after Epiphany
(narrative lectionary)
watch this service online (reading starts around 23:23; children’s sermon starts around 29:05; sermon starts around 40:14)
Reading: Mark 6:1-29
Hehe, for the children’s sermon, I wore a large pair of headphones that completely covered my ears and then pretended I couldn’t hear anything they were saying. They finally convinced me to take them off, and we talked about the things that make it hard for us to hear sometimes. Sometimes those are physical things, but sometimes they aren’t – sometimes it’s hard for us to hear/listen when people are telling us things we don’t want to hear. Our long reading from the gospel of Mark has three stories that involve people not wanting to listen to what Jesus has to say, what his disciples have to say, or what John the Baptist has to say. We talked about the importance of listening, especially to God and to our parents and to other people that we know love us and have our best interest at heart – it’s important for us to be aware of the things that make it hard for us to listen, especially when someone is saying things it would be good for us to hear. And we gave thanks that God always listens to us.
One of the things I enjoy most about living in a city again is the opportunity to meet new people. But whenever these new people find out that I am a pastor, I have found that they almost always tend to have the exact same reaction. It doesn’t matter if they’re Christian or not, or even if they’re religious or not, they almost always do the same thing – or, rather, they stop doing the same thing. Any guesses what it is?
It’s swearing. People almost always stop swearing or apologize for swearing around me the instant they find out I’m a pastor. It’s honestly kind of hilarious to me, because if you’ve spent much time at all talking with me in casual conversation, you already know that I don’t give a flying ffffff…fruitcake about people swearing. I do try to rein myself in in church though, heh.
This reaction seems to reflect a particular mindset that people often have about clergy – that because of our vocation, we are somehow holier, saintlier people than the average person. But if you actually read some of the stories in the bible about the people God chooses to call – this whole cabal of losers, rednecks, murderers, sex offenders, criminals, and outcasts – you really start to get the sense that maybe being called into God’s service isn’t exactly a compliment. (lol)
In fact, in that vein, one of my favorite compliments ever about my ministry came from one of my former parishioners: she came to me and said, “You know, Pastor, I have belonged to a lot of different churches. I’ve had Missouri Synod pastors and Catholic priests and other ELCA pastors – but out of all of them, you’re the one who is most clearly a regular person.” She meant it as a compliment – and I took it as such – but with a different inflection, that is an absolutely savage insult, lol. Like, “Oh yeah, there’s no way we’d mistake you for a saint!”
Setting a pastor or another religious leader on a pedestal is a recipe for failure. For one thing, we have terrible balance – inevitably, we will fall off that pedestal and fail our people in some way.
But the more insidious thing that happens when you put spiritual leaders on a pedestal is that it can actually make their teachings easier to ignore. Like, “Sure, okay, Pastor says we should pray all the time and love our enemies and forgive each other and try every day to live more and more like Jesus. Well, that’s easy for Pastor to say! I’m just a regular, non-holy person trying to live my life, so I can’t be expected to live up to that kind of standard!” It’s easier to let yourself off the hook for persisting in a life of discipleship if you decide that that’s the territory of spiritual athletes and leaders.
But if you recognize that ministry leaders are actually just as normal as anyone else – swearing and all – it also forces you to acknowledge that it doesn’t take anything special or superhuman to hear and respond to the call of God in our lives. We are all called – and capable – to live out the vocation, the path of discipleship, to which God has called us with just as much zeal. We are capable of much more than we often give ourselves credit for.
And I think this is the sort of dynamic that is playing out in the first story in this big ol’ chunk of Mark that we read today. Jesus has gone back to the town where he grew up to teach in the synagogue; he preaches the same radical message that he has been sharing everywhere else that he has gone. But unlike everywhere else, the people in his hometown are quick to write him off. They scoff at him, saying, “Pfft, this guy is Mary’s kid, a carpenter. He’s just a local schmuck like the rest of us. How could he be some kind of great, spiritual leader? Those kinds of folks don’t come from around here in Galilee.”
The people of his hometown completely close themselves off from what Jesus has to say to them. Their resistance and defensiveness are so strong that Jesus can barely even do any acts of power there among them. Their hearts are closed to that kind of faith.
And if this is the kind of reaction that Jesus himself receives, imagine how it must have gone for his disciples! He sends them off to go around Galilee preaching and teaching with nothing but a staff and the clothes on their backs. Maybe this is why Jesus told them what to do in case they are rejected – because maybe they went to preach and teach in their own hometowns. Most of them were from even more humble origins than Jesus, so it’s not hard to imagine the people they grew up with dismissing them in the same way.
I can imagine them closing off their hearts in defensiveness against these teachings. Because if this lowly fisherman, this lowly carpenter, this lowly shepherd, or this lowly whatever can rise up to become this great spiritual teacher, alive with the Spirit, on fire with zeal – well, what might God be asking of me? Seeing how ordinary folks like the disciples respond to this extraordinary call basically takes away whatever excuses the other people around them might have for not responding as boldly to the call of God in their lives.
And I get it – I think it’s completely understandable to want to resist that call. I myself resisted it for several years. I never felt like I was good enough or faithful enough to be a pastor. Sometimes we might resist because we worry we won’t have what it takes. Very often I think we resist God’s call in our lives because we know it will drag us out of our comfort zones, making us assert ourselves in vulnerable ways. God’s word frequently asks things of us; it discomforts us; it calls us to reshape our priorities, to repent, and occasionally even to completely uproot our lives. I know from experience that nothing will wreck your carefully laid plans like the wild ideas of the Holy Spirit!
And yet… despite all that, I still wouldn’t trade this call for anything. And I’d be willing to be the disciples wouldn’t either. Even in the lowest, crappiest moments of this job – even in the darkest days of the pandemic, when everything across the board just sucked – even then, I just felt this deep, unshakeable sense of certainty that this was exactly what I’m meant to be doing. Through the moments of unhappiness and through seasons of loneliness, even then, I still feel this sense of deep joy and fulfillment, down to my bones. I know that I’m right where I’m meant to be, doing this work that God has called me to do to help bring a little of the kingdom on earth.
God calls every single one of us to some kind of work. It’s not necessarily to vocations as pastors or deacons or other church professionals. God calls us to use our gifts and to live out the call to discipleship in our lives – however that may look for us – with boldness, joy, creativity, and courage. God calls us into living to our fullest – into the lives for which God has intended us. God calls us to be alive with the love of God, burning with zeal and excitement for all that God is doing in the world. God calls us into being the people we were always meant to be.
That means that you are called – you, exactly as you are right now, with all the gifts you bring to the table. And you won’t need a pedestal or a collar or even a second tunic in order to answer. You don’t even need to stop swearing, if you don’t want to! (Trust me!) God calls you as you are to be more than you imagined you could be.
So let your heart be open to hear that call, however it comes to you; let yourself be swept up in God’s imagination for the world and for your life; let God lead you into a life of fullness and wholeness, into life that really is life.
This is the Day 
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