Skip to main content

Sunday, January 15 - What God is looking for

This sermon was preached for Sunday, January 15, 2023 for the second Sunday in Epiphany at St. Mark's, East Longmeadow. The texts for this Sunday were Isaiah 49:1-7, John 1:29-42 and Psalm 40:1-12.


PHOTO: DONALD UHRBROCK/THE LIFE IMAGES COLLECTION/GETTY IMAGES

“What are you looking for?”

These are the first words Jesus speaks in the Gospel of John. A question directed to John the Baptist’s disciples. “What are you looking for?”

It’s also a question I wish I could ask every person who walks through our doors or tunes into our livestream. It’s a question to ask ourselves, whether we are newcomers and decades-long members. What are we looking for? What is drawing us here, together, today? The answer to that question might change from year to year or even Sunday to Sunday. It might not even be entirely clear to you, either. 

What are you looking for? is an essential starting question for any search, whether that be for a job, a partner, a church, a new home, a spouse. Author Dan Savage, who writes about sex and relationships and who I never quite imagined myself ever quoting in a sermon, often advises that we need to rid ourselves of the notion of “the one” before we even begin dating. There is no “the one.” There is no such thing as two people who are absolutely perfect for each other. There is no 100% compatibility. Savage argues that the key is instead looking for a .7 and rounding them up to 1. The beauty of love is as I am rounding you up and I trust that you are rounding me up, too. Of course, it's not just our spouse or partner we round up - it's our family and our friends and our parish community, too. There is grace in that rounding up, grace given and received. 

We may not find everything we are looking for here or in each other - but there's another piece of the puzzle to consider, too. Even as we are looking for God, or community, or companionship, or something else, something we can’t put into words, God’s been looking for us. 

Maybe you are here today because you are looking for something. What if you are here today because you are what God is looking for? What if this right here, and this life you are living with all its ups and downs, what if this is how God is making you into who God needs you to be? 

Back when I was first discerning the priesthood, I remember being overwhelmed with a responsibility that pastoring and leadership entails. I doubted I could ever be what the church and God's people needed me to be. I shared with my mentor that I was struggling to trust God in all this and struggling to trust myself. How could I ever think I could do this? He then asked me a question that completely shifted my perspective. "What if God trusts you?"

I had a moment like that again in the hospital, when they handed me my son for the first time, and again when they handed me my daughter. When I took this job, here with you. Every single time I’ve made a vow in a church. What if God trusts me? What if all this is God trusting me, forming me, rounding me up to be the mother, the pastor, the priest, the wife, God needs me to be in this moment? 

So I offer you that question now. One to keep in your mind whenever you face a daunting challenge: parenthood, marriage, a new job, a life-changing decision, a new leadership position. A question to consider when you can’t imagine how you’ll ever live up being the one you think you need to be. What if God trusts you? What if you are what God is looking for? 

There's a quote that hangs in a frame in my office. It's from the book of Esther. Queen Esther, who found herself in a position to intervene on behalf of her people. The quote on my wall is a paraphrase of the wisdom Esther's mentor offers her at that crucial moment. Perhaps you were made a queen so that you could save the Jewish people, Mordecai wonders out loud. "Perhaps you were born for such a time as this."

In our reading today, the prophet Isaiah admits that he gets stuck in his own self-doubt sometimes, too. When he looks around at all his efforts, he sees only disappointment and falling short. "But I said, “I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity."

Listen to how God responds.

“And now the Lord says, who formed me in the womb to be his servant… ““It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to restore the survivors of Israel; I will give you as a light to the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”

Perhaps you were born for such a time as this. Perhaps God formed you in the womb, for this moment. Perhaps God is right now forming you for a moment that is still yet to come.

This weekend our nation honors a man who rose to meet his moment. The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. spoke out for the freedom not just of black Americans, but for the salvation of all Americans. He proclaimed the greater dream God offers us is possible: beloved community with liberty and justice for all people, of every shade and creed. King has been compared with Jesus - he lived a life for the cause of radical love and was killed for it. He's also been compared to Moses - a prophet leading us toward a promised land he would never live to see. In doing so, we take a .7 leader - a human being with well-documented flaws - and round him up. We lionize him in a way that King himself rejected throughout his life. 

I first encountered Martin Luther King as a great historical figure and political leader in public school around this time each year. It wasn’t until seminary that I really fully understood how King was first and foremost a follower of Christ. King believed that his life was ultimately lived to point toward Jesus. His message was deeply grounded in Christian theology, Christ’s Gospel of love. King understood that he was neither the beginning of the story, nor its end. It was never King’s dream, but God’s. 

King lived his life for Jesus, lived a life inspired by Jesus, but never claimed to be a perfect savior himself - sort of like John the Baptist. Even as John the Baptist’s disciples pushed him to claim Messiahship for himself, John was clear about his role. “‘After me comes a man who ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’” The story of Jesus, the long arc of salvation, began long before John and will continue on beyond him. 

In this way, the greatness God is drawing forth in each of us is also balanced with humility. Our moments as individuals and communities may not be as grandiose or consequential as Esther's or Isaiah's or King's. But that does not make them any less blessed or chosen by God. Humility does not mean shying away from our moment. It does not mean doubting that we could ever have a significant part to play in God’s greatest story. Humility means that when our moment comes we can each honestly pray, “God has become my strength.” We embrace the role before us, even through our short-comings. We trust that God can take our .7 and round us up to be the one we need to be. We can even offer one another than grace as well. 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Sunday, May 7, 2023 - There is a place for you here

This sermon was preached for the fifth Sunday in Easter, May 7, 2023 for St. Mark's, East Longmeadow. The texts for this sermon were: Acts 7:55-60,  John 14:1-14, and  Psalm 31:1-5, 15-16. Today's Gospel passage is a common funeral sermon because it's the words Jesus leaves with his disciples at the Last Supper before his crucifixion, words he knows will be what will carry his friends through what is to come, his death, their grief, the shock of the resurrection. Jesus wants his followers to know that they already have all they need for the journey ahead. You know the way, he reassures the disciples.  I will say, taken out of context, Jesus’ statement, “No one comes to the Father except through me” lands as uncomfortably exclusive. Certainly those words have been used to exclude: “No one…except.” Yet Jesus clearly intends for this whole passage to be reassuring, not threatening. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Don’t worry that you don’t know the way, you already...

Tuesday, December 24, 2024 - Thank you, teacher

  This sermon was preached for the Feast of the Nativity, Christmas Eve, December 24, 2024. The texts for this sermon were the Christmas Lessons and Carols.  I sent two recordings of my daughter singing herself to sleep to her godmothers a couple weeks ago. If you listen closely to the first, you can hear that she’s singing her very own two year old version of the Jewish sabbath blessing for the bread and in the second, O Gracious Light, the Episcopal hymn we’ve been singing as we light our Advent wreath each night. The godmothers were delighted. “Here’s the thing that I know for sure,” one said in response. “...There are things we can only learn about God from children. There are things we can only learn about God from a little tiny voice singing blessings to fall asleep.” The Christmas pageant we did here earlier today was another one of those times that drives home for me, that there are things we can only learn about God from children. Things that children just know about ...

Sunday, March 10 - Sin

This sermon was preached for the fourth Sunday in Lent, Sunday, March 10 at St. Mark's, East Longmeadow. The texts for this sermon were: Ephesians 2:1-10,  John 3:14-21, and  Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22. I’m going to tell you a story. It’s one you know. I’m not changing it - it’s still true to scripture. But it might have a different emphasis than you’re used to hearing. In the beginning, God created a beautiful garden and filled it with wondrous creatures, including two human beings made from the earth in God’s own image (Genesis 1:27). God spoke with the human beings often, walked with them, cared for them. They knew themselves to be God's creation, and that God saw them as very good (Genesis 1:31). The human beings were naked and they felt no shame (Genesis 2:25). But when the two human beings ate the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and their eyes were opened, suddenly when they looked around they didn't see only goodness anymore. Even when they looked at...