Micah 6:8; Mark 1:16-20 and 1:35-39

 

It’s my own fault, really, that I’m standing here trembling, unsure of how my scrambled ideas will sound to you—wondering if you will be able to follow my thoughts at all.  They seemed so connected and so clear to me two weeks ago.  Now I’m going to throw myself on your mercy and ask that you bear with me as I try to relate Micah’s and Mark’s readings to each other, and to you.

 

Two ideas came to me.  The first is how God calls us; the second is how Jesus shows us how to respond.  I think I’m probably not going to tell you anything you don’t already know, but maybe these words will remind you of why we do what we do each day.  They might also help us focus as we begin our year-long journey with the Center for Progressive Renewal.

 

I need to start by expressing how impressed I am by everyone in this community—by the way we share our struggles and our joys.  For example, last week we prayed for Evelyn Faircloth with her husband’s end of life struggle, and we also offered prayers of joy for Marion, Ken, and Fran Pike who shared news of their family’s newest child’s Baptism in Columbia.  Our coming together is itself a sign of hope, a sign that we believe there is a spiritual purpose for our lives that draws us to shared worship and praise.  What I see and most admire about

 

us as a community of believers is that we are living out—albeit not perfectly—the precept offered in Micah to “Walk humbly with [our] God.”

 

What might we mean by “humbly”?  Definitions abound about humility.  I’ve heard it described as “teachability.”  I’ve also learned that it does NOT mean being humiliated.  Rather, it means recognizing that there is a God—and that’s it’s not I!  What a difference there is between my listening to God say, “Be still and know that I am God” and my egotistically saying to God, “Be still and know that I am God”!  Humility, at least to me, is simply accepting myself as I am—good and bad, with strengths and weaknesses, successes and failures—knowing that it is okay to be me, that “God don’t make no junk,” and that I am part of God’s ongoing creation of the universe.

 

Humility is also recognizing and embracing our being in relationship with the rest of humanity, knowing I cannot grow in a vacuum.  I cannot grow or contribute at all without being vulnerable and letting others know the “real” me.  Emmanuel is a place where I can take the risk to be known, to share my joys and sorrows, my questions and doubts—in short, my spiritual journey.

 

Looking at the calling of the first disciples as described by Mark, it is clear to me that God meets us where we are and asks us to follow in His ways.  Jesus had plenty of options for how to call Simon and Andrew.  He could have invited them to act justly, love tenderly, and walk humbly with their God.  Their Jewish faith tradition would have made these words known to them.  Jesus might also have invited them to come and carry out the two great commandments—to love God with their whole heart, mind, soul, and strength and to love their neighbor as they did themselves.  Instead of using either of these Scripturally-based appeals, Jesus met these brothers where they were at, along the Sea of Galilee—inviting them in language they could relate to, that is, to become fishers of men.  I would probably have said, “No, thanks.  I don’t fish.”  Would you have gone if Jesus had walked into your place of business and asked you to drop everything and follow Him? Hmm . . . .

Jesus DOES ask us to follow Him, and everyday we’re given opportunities to do just that—to act justly, to love tenderly, and to walk humbly with our God.  I chose the bulletin cover to remind us that none of us is too small to make a difference, though hopefully it will not be as an annoying, biting insect.    It was Mother Theresa who said, “Do small things with great love.”  Let me give you two examples, each perhaps from an unlikely source, but each touching me greatly.

 

First, let me tell you where I got the call to worship for today.  (HOLD UP WEEKLY BULLETINS.)  I got it from among these weekly ecumenical prayer service outlines that my

so-called adoptive mom started saving for me when she heard I was on occasion leading worship here.  Kay Vaughan is 98 years old and lives with 24-hour care in Mequon.  She found a way to be of service to us, though she will never have the chance to meet any of you personally.  I love that her generous spirit gave us our opening prayer for today.

 

Then there is last week’s example from Lauren Everett.  While her sister was busy handing out samples and taking orders for Girl Scout cookies, little Lauren was busy giving away stickers that she had brought to share.  I saw Natalie go back to college with a new Lucy sticker, and I was given a delightful one of Snoopy.  So we see kindness offered from the very young to the very old, and the actions of both Lauren and Kay touched me very deeply and gave me a sense of awe at the simple ways God uses us to reach others.

 

Let me tell you about the overcrowded week I just finished, and we can see how the second half of Mark’s Gospel reading applies.  Last Sunday we had church and Council, and then I had to watch the Packers whip the Dallas Cowboys—though I could have skipped all but the last two plays and seen it all.  Go, Pack!  This week I had a paper due for the Lay Academy on Monday; I worked on this service on Tuesday; had lunch with high school friends and helped with the church financial audit on Wednesday; went to the chiropractor, had lunch with Julia, and wrote this sermon on Thursday; and had class Friday night and all day Saturday.  Besides this, I had two books to read for this weekend’s class and was supposed to go to Planet Fitness three times.  And now we’re here.

 

I can just hear some of you thinking, “You think that’s bad?  Listen to how MY week went!”    I know that many of us, self-included, tend to get overbooked and try to cram too much into each day.  That’s where Jesus’ example comes in.  Let’s look again at what happened after he called Simon and Andrew.

In the morning, long before dawn, he got up and left the house, and went off to a lonely place and prayed there.  Simon and his companions set out in search for him, and when they found him they said, “Everybody is looking for you.”  He answered, “Let us go elsewhere, to the neighboring country towns, so that I can preach there too, because that is why I came.”  And he went all through Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and casting out devils.

 

What jumps out at me here, and in many other Scripture passages, is Jesus modeling for us the need for balance and for rest and prayer.  Here Jesus goes off to a lonely place before dawn.  He goes off to renew his strength after teaching the crowds and before his arrest on Holy Thursday.  He models for us that we cannot walk humbly with our God if we’re too tired to stumble along the path He has laid out for us.  Part of humility is saying that I cannot do it all and knowing that I do not need to do so—that we are on this journey together and can lean on one another for support, courage, and love.  Emmanuel shows that to me, and I wanted to focus on it as we start our journey of renewal as a church body.

 

In the spirit of encouraging rest for the journey, I would like to share two poems.  Maybe one will appeal to you.  The first is called “Leisure,” by W. H. Davies.

 

What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare?

No time to stand beneath the boughs,

And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see, when woods we pass,

Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

No time to see, in broad daylight,

Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance:

No time to wait till her mouth can

Enrich that smile her eyes began?

A poor life this, if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

 

The other poem is a bit less lofty and its author is unknown.  It’s entitled “Dust If You Must.”

 

Dust it you must, but wouldn’t it be better

To paint a picture or write a letter;

Bake a cake or plant a seed,

Ponder the difference between want and need?

Dust if you must, but there’s not much time,

With rivers to swim and mountains to climb,

Music to hear and books to read,

Friends to cherish and life to lead.

Dust if you must, but the world’s out there,

With the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair,

A flutter of snow, a shower of rain.

This day will not come around again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind,

Old age will come and it’s not kind.

And when you go—and go you must—

You, yourself, will make more dust.

 

We have been called by Christ even as Simon and Andrew were, and we are asked to walk away from our old ways of doing things and step out in faith as we try to discern where God’s Spirit is leading us and how we can be church to others.  Let us trust this process and look for the simple acts of love that are all around us and that make the journey worthwhile.

 

Let us remember as we work with each other that we are called to act justly, to love tenderly, and to walk humbly with our God.  Let us encourage one another and appreciate the uniqueness of each.  And as we struggle to respond effectively as church in the 21st Century, let us be guided by these words of L. R. Knost—words that I can imagine Christ himself saying to us:

Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world.  All things break.  And all things can be mended.  Not with time, as they say, but with intention.  So go.  Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally.  The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you.

 

In the name of the One who calls us to be church, even Jesus the Christ.  Amen.

 

SCRIPTURES FOR JANUARY 22, 2017

Micah 6:8

This is what God asks of you:

only this, to act justly,

to love tenderly

and to walk humbly with your God.

 

Mark 1:16-20 and 1:35-39

As he was walking along the Sea of Galilee he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net in the lake—for they were fishermen.  And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you into fishers of men.”  And at once they left their nets and followed him.

 

In the morning, long before dawn, he got up and left the house, and went off to a lonely place and prayed there.  Simon and his companions set out in search for him, and when they found him they said, “Everybody is looking for you.”  He answered, “Let us go elsewhere, to the neighboring country towns, so that I can preach there too, because that is why I came.”  And he went all through Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and casting out devils.