When the Phone Rings...

Sermon from July 8, 2012
"When the phone rings...." based on Matthew 4:18-22
Secondary texts: Exodus 3:1-5; 1 Samuel 16:1, 6-13; Jeremiah 1: 4-9

            Lynn, did I hear correctly that Jesus basically was out for a stroll when he sees some fishermen. Jesus just decides to call to them to follow him and they just get up and go. They leave everything else behind and just follow Jesus. Did I miss anything? That’s all there is to it? Alright, thank you, I was just checking. So this story really is as remarkable as it sounds. I am just so amazed at how faithful the fishermen are. Here they are in the middle of an ordinary day. They aren’t out to do anything extraordinary. They are just working away, doing what they need to do to catch some fish. Toiling away to get through another day. Just some ordinary fishermen living their lives. Then Jesus comes along with an extraordinary call which transforms their lives. Amazing! Jesus doesn’t come calling for someone particularly special, to a genius or someone with mind-blowing talent. Instead, Jesus calls to these ordinary people on this ordinary day.

But what’s even more astounding to me is that the fishermen immediately break their ordinary routine to follow Jesus. Talk about faith! We don’t even know for sure if the fishermen knew Jesus yet. And here they are leaving their everyday life behind for a new one. I really can’t even understand the leap of faith that it took for them to get out of the boat. I mean, God’s call is powerful, but the fishermen go willingly.

One of the main reasons why I can’t understand the faith that this took is because never in a million years can I put myself in this situation. No matter how much I hope and pray that I could respond like the fishermen, I just don’t think I could. I don’t think I would have gotten out of the boat. I don’t think I could have left my livelihood behind. For the life of me, I can’t imagine walking away from my father and family, they way James and John did. Now, I know this last hesitation is because I’ve been fortunate enough to have a wonderful family life, but still, with that aside, I can’t image myself getting up from the boat. And it certainly wouldn’t have been instant like the fishermen!

Now, I know people who would say that to stay in the boat is to miss the boat. I have friends in the faith who describe their own call story as an immediate need to follow Jesus. As an instant where their lives changed, when they turned away from careers or habits or sins they never in a million years thought they could give up. When I hear conversion stories like this, I am always amazed by how God works. It is so inspiring to me to hear of the powerful, life-changing moments which sustain a person through a lifelong faith journey. So when I hear these stories, and maybe some of you have stories like this you’ll share with me in time. When I hear these stories and when I read this story in Matthew, I am uplifted. Yet at the same time, part of me feels anxious or disheartened, for here before me is a model of faithful discipleship, so bold and powerful. A model I fear that I fall short of. For, I’m afraid I might not have gotten out of the boat.

I imagine some of you in this room are right there with me. Wondering, how did those fishermen do it? How did they leave it all behind? I imagine that others in this room know exactly how they left it all behind, for some of you have probably left something behind yourself.

But we can all take heart. Unlike last week when we talked about how our hands tell the whole faith story, this scene in Matthew is just one way to tell the story of faithfulness. This story sure tells of God’s faithfulness in calling to the ordinary fishermen on an ordinary day. And it sure tells the faithfulness of the fishermen in their immediate discipleship which sent them bounding out of the boat and after Jesus.

But guess what! We heard three other call stories today which told of God’s faithful call and the faith of God’s children in responding. We heard God come on an ordinary day in a most spectacular way as God came to Moses in a burning bush. This time it wasn’t immediate faith that compelled Moses to hear God’s voice, instead it was an unquenchable curiosity. Moses saw something he just couldn’t ignore! The Holy called to Moses in a show-stopping way. God interrupted the ordinary with the extraordinary.

Then there was David. David who God made a king, and how does God first call to him? Through someone else! God tells Samuel to call to David to anoint him a king. So on another ordinary day and ordinary boy is tending the sheep when a prophet has something to say about it. Actually, we don’t even know if Samuel says anything when he anoints David. All we know is that when Samuel poured oil on David, “the spirit of the Lord came mightily upon him from that day forward.” A King…and God called to him through someone else.

And what about Jeremiah? God calls to Jeremiah sharing the plans that God has had for him since before he was born. But Jeremiah is afraid. He is young. He literally doesn’t know what to say. God re-assures Jeremiah, persistent in calling to him. In a sign of assurance God touches (ahhh, see there’s the story that hands tell again), anyways, God touches Jeremiah’s mouth to give him the words to speak. Another ordinary day. Another extraordinary call.

There are so many others that we could look at. We could see God call to Mary through an angel. Or God using any means possible to get through to Jonah. So you see, each story tells of God’s unique faithfulness in calling to God’s children. Even when the people don’t spring out of the boat in immediate faith and obedience, still God pursues them.

God pursues you, too. Now, your story may not be anything at all like the ones we heard today. Or maybe it’s exactly like one of them, or it’s a beautiful combination of them all. My own call story has pieces and parts of stories we heard. God’s voice called to me over time. Patiently inviting me to follow God closer. Until finally I understood the invitation to be a call to ministry. But like Jeremiah, I was young. I was seventeen when I understood my call. And in my excitement to answer, I shared my call with others. That’s when another voice spoke up. This was a voice of doubt, of uncertainty, a voice that told me you really don’t want to do ministry, you’re probably too young to be called anyways. I knew the patient voice of God in my own life, and yet I listened to this new voice. So I waited. So did God, although not always patiently. God continued to call to me, God’s voice spoke in a sense of discontent, in a void that couldn’t be filled no matter how hard I tried. When my stubborn self still refused to understand, God’s voice came through unexpected challenges, nothing too dramatic, just enough to tip me off that maybe that void was there for a reason. Four and a half years ago, God called to me in my own burning bush. In the middle of finals week I had a midnight epiphany. A feeling of certainty about my call to ministry washed over me so strongly that I couldn’t help but come closer, to take off my sandals and recognize that this was indeed the voice of God. The next day I had no choice but to change my academic major and begin to look into seminary. Remembering that burning bush moment reminds me of my call. But I have learned to hear God’s voice calling to me in my ordinary moments. God’s voice reassures me through the ordinary and supportive words of others. God’s voice finds me in the vast beauty of nature. God’s voice invites me to follow closer as I spend time in silent, written prayer. Yes, God calls in the ordinary times.

And this, friends, is the greatest joy and the most daunting challenge of God’s call. Because I don’t know about you, but it seems my ordinary times are already filled with different voices calling my name. There are the voices of loved ones. Parents calling in need of care. Children calling to play. Spouses calling for their time and affection. There are bosses and co-workers calling out their demands, their expectations, their deadlines. The News calls out to be heard and feared. The media calls out to distract us. The phone rings with politicians calling for our votes, or with weather warnings calling for our safety. Emails and answering machines blink at us, calling for us to take their messages.

So many calls. Yet these are the ordinary times that God calls. We might all love to have a burning bush at times like these, something we can’t ignore. On second thought,  we might just extinguish the fire without listening. Without a burning bush or a prophet coming with anointing oil, can we still even hear the voice of God calling to us? Because, no mistake about it, God is calling to each and every one of us. And praise the Lord, God will keep on calling. God will stay on the line even when we put Him on hold. God will call back even when we give Him a busy signal. God will call again when we send him straight to voicemail. God will call again when we don’t return His calls, or when we change our number, or disconnect the line. God will call us again because God is faithful to His children. God will call again because God loves us.

So the question isn’t will you be the one in the boat, or in the desert or in the pasture with the sheep when God calls. It’s not about how God calls. It’s not that God calls to you through unexpected opportunities, or through the encouragement of a friend. It’s not that God calls to you in a vision or a miracle or an intuitive feeling. And it’s not about what God calls you to either. Maybe God calls you to follow Jesus, or to follow closer. Maybe it’s a call to radical hospitality or a more generous spirit. Maybe it’s a call to vocational ministry, or ministry through a different career path. No, the real question is, what will you do when the phone rings and God calls? Will you get out of the boat? Will you take off your sandals to recognize the holy ground? Will you receive the Spirit that has come upon you? What will you do when God calls? 

Hands of Faith

Sermon from July 1, 2012

"Hands of Faith"; Based on Mark 5:21-43

            Over the years, my grandparents have been collecting religious figurines from the Lenox Company. These figurines depict various scenes from the Bible and from Jesus’ ministry. Now, I’m not sure if the at the start they had it in mind to give them away, or if that thought came as the collection grew and as life progressed. But they collected at least 20 of these Lenox figures—enough to give one to each of their five daughters and their 15 grandchildren. While my mom and aunts all have their figurines already, my grandparents have decided that the grandchildren will receive theirs as a wedding gift. So to celebrate marriage, my grandparents carefully select which scene best represents or relates to the grandchild. This Saturday, my cousin Michael will be the third grandchild to get his figurine as he marries his fiancé Stacey. I wonder which one he’ll get!

            This past week as we unpacked and began to settle in, I came across my own figurine. I have to tell you the story behind it—because you see—two and a half years ago when Kevin and I were married, I was a little disappointed to see which figurine my grandparents selected for me. Don’t get me wrong—I was grateful for the thought and was deeply appreciative of the sentiment. This just wasn’t one of my favorites. Oh, I had my favorites. As one of the older grandchildren in my family, I grew up watching the collection grow. I remember as a child studying the different scenes that each figure depicted. I remember the game I would play when I learned there was a new one on display and had the chance to see if I could find it. Yes, I loved to look at the figurines! There were images of Jesus blessing the children, of Jesus the shepherd with the sheep. Jesus breaking bread. Jesus feeding the hungry. All these wonderful stories captured in small, pure white statues. And then….there were the praying hands. A plain old disembodied pair of hands folded in prayer. That one never caught my eye. I never stayed to look at them for long. “There’s no story in that” my young mind thought.

            But as you might guess and can see on the altar behind me, two and a half years ago I opened the box to find those same praying hands. When I saw those hands, I couldn’t help but be slightly disappointed, of all the beautiful stories, and here were hands. The same thought came to me, “where’s the story in that?”

            Then this past week I unpacked those praying hands. That’s when it finally occurred to me, the whole Christian narrative is in those hands. For hands folded in prayer is perhaps our oldest and profound expression of faith. But it’s not just prayer, it’s more than that. I suggest that our entire faith journey can be expressed through our hands.

            Today’s Scripture reading reminds us that our hands tell our faith. The Gospel writer, Mark, vividly recounts two miraculous healing stories. I don’t know about you, but I can actually imagine seeing this scene unfold. Jairus comes in desperation, falling in faith at Jesus’ feet. Begging him to come heal and save his little daughter. I imagine Jairus shaking his hands as he pleads, “please, Jesus” or maybe even stretching out his arm in supplication begging, “Come, Teacher, please.” I’d be surprised if Jesus stood idly by, passively watching the scene. Instead, I can see Jesus extending his own hand to Jairus in comfort and support. Pulling him gently to his feet as he follows him to where the girl is. See how hands can tell the story?

            Can you see the faith of the suffering woman, in her desperate yet tentatively outstretched hand? Her hand which with a single touch shattered all types of religious and cultural boundaries. For considered an outsider, one made unclean by her illness, a woman no less!, she dared to stretch out her, to brush the hem of Jesus’ robe, fully trusting that should would find healing and salvation in a touch. And she does!

            Then Jesus himself, goes in to the little girl. He takes her lifeless hand in his own life-giving one and she begins to walk around, alive again. All through the work of hands. Healing hands. Hands outstretched in faith. Hands pleading out of love for another. A testimony to our faith story, all in our hands.

            Friends, our hands are powerful. They witness to our faith, they tell our story. In reflecting on this, I am reminded of a scene in a movie: Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. In the scene, Will Ferrell playing racecar driver Ricky Bobby is being interviewed after his first victory at a race. In the middle of the interview, he begins grabbing the microphone saying, “I’m not real sure what to do with my hands.” The interviewer gently lowers his hands instructing him to just keep them by his side. As the interview goes on, you can see Ricky’s hands slowly and awkwardly creep into the camera shot. It’s a pretty ridiculous situation that makes for an amusing scene. Ricky just doesn’t know what to do with his hands.

            It’s great for comedy, but for Christians, not knowing what to do with our hands is a tragedy. In a society in which hands cause violence and abuse, when hands neglect and violate, we as Christians must know what do with our hands. Because, remember, our hands tell our story.

            The picture that is hanging between our main doors at the back of the building is a powerful reminder of the story hands can tell. If you haven’t looked at it recently I encourage you to take a few minutes to see it before you leave today. It is an image of a young girl. She is holding the Risen Christ’s hand in her own. With her other hand she is gently pointing to the wound in Jesus’ hand. She looks up at him wonderingly asking, “what happened to your hand?”

            Friends, we know what happened to his hand. While his hands were pierced for the weight and brokenness of our sin, Christ still opened them to offer grace and forgiveness to us all. That is our faith story told through hands. So I ask you, what story will your hands tell?

            As you reflect on this, I want to close by offering some of my own reflections on the story your hands have told. Because I know that your hands have been busy in telling your story. The hands that nurtured Pastor Curt and Michelle and which held Caleb, Jude and Malachi, have already graciously been opened to bring us into the Faith family. In the week since we’ve moved in, Kevin and I have been blessed and welcomed by the work of your hands. Your hands have showed Christian love and hospitality through the labor of home improvements, through the extended hands and open arms of greeting, through the wonderfully prepared meals. But it’s not just us who have been blessed by your hands. No, you have shared your story with others. Your hands have shared the faith by serving the community at Open M. Your hands have cared for creation as the gardens were tended. Your hands have prepared to pass the faith to our children as Vacation Bible School approaches. Already this morning your hands have told our Christian story as they folded in prayer and were lifted in praise.

            Now, our hands will tell the story as we come to the table together. We will come like the girl in the picture, with open hands ready to receive the body of Christ, broken for us all. May this Communion meal be the bread for your journey. May it prepare you so that never again will you find yourself like Ricky Bobby, unsure of what to do with your hands. May the grace of this table free your hands to be hands of faith in this world. For like my grandparents knew all along, the whole story can be told in our hands. 

Is this thing still on?

Grace and peace to you!

I'm really glad that Scripture provides that greeting...I never do know how to start writing something! But, now I have so here we go. You can read more about me in the cleverly named "About Me" tab to the right, but I'll give you a brief introduction here anyways. I'm Pastor Janelle, the newly appointed pastor to Faith United Methodist Church in Brimfield. My husband, Kevin, and I are Ohio natives who just moved back from Atlanta. We were in Atlanta for three years while I attended seminary at Emory's Candler School of Theology. We're thrilled to be back and serving the wonderful community of Brimfield and the lovely people of Faith UMC. 

While I will be the primary hands and voice behind this blog, I hope that it will reflect the life of the Faith community. So, not only will this be a place to read past sermons, it will be a place to see about the current happenings in our congregation and community. 

I'm going to call this introductory post a wrap and go on to bombard you with a few more to get us up to speed. Hold on tight, if you've ever thought time flies, it's sure going to now...here comes all of July in a few rapid fire posts! Thanks for reading!

Peace, 

Janelle