sermon by Torin Eikler
I Samuel 3:1-11, 19-21 Psalm 139:1-18 John 1:45-51
Let me start by saying “thank you” to you all for the freedom that you have provided us to take extended vacations. Not all pastors can do that, and we know that we are fortunate to be part of a congregation that not only allows us do so but that also has strong leadership so that we don’t need to worry while we are gone. Our times away do a lot to refresh and inspire us, and we’d love to talk with you more about the amazing things that we got to see and do while we were gone.
One wonderful thing about traveling, particularly traveling abroad, is that we get a break from our daily lives and everything that goes along with them. It is amazing, though, how quickly we fall back into our schedules when we get back home, and part of that, for me, is listening to the radio. It’s my connection with the world beyond my neighborhood and the people I see each day, and as I have been listening this week, I was surprised to find how completely I had been disconnected from the goings on here … and how little things had changed.
The big news, it seems, is still politics. The Republican primary race tops the list as people speculate about whether Mitt Romney will take out the rest of the competition by winning South Carolina. The struggle between the president and the congress is a close second. And the twists and turns of global struggles for power fill in most of the rest. There is, of course, still a little room for mentioning the ten records set during the Orange Bowl and a few other tidbits and human interest stories, but the bulk of the radio chatter is the really the same conversations I left behind three weeks ago.
But there is one interesting twist that I discovered listening to an interview with Ralph Nader the other day. The questions he was fielding had very little to do with policies or issues. Instead, the host was asking about the value of compromise in politics and, more pointedly, about whether anyone could succeed in that arena without “selling out.” Nader claimed that he would not compromise his own beliefs and that was why he had never been very successful in gaining office … the implication being that career politicians survive precisely because they do.
No real surprise there, but over the next couple of days I heard other interviews in the same vein with Tea Party advocates, Evangelical conservatives, progressive politicians, and Occupy Wall Street participants. Though some of them supported the idea of compromise, all of them seemed to stress the same theme – everyone else is “selling out” and that’s why we are in the mess we are in. One evangelical even lamented the lack of respect for God’s Word on the part of national leaders and the moral mess that we’re in because of it.
It sounded a lot like the situation Israel was in at the end of the age when judges led the people. “The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.” Eli was the high priest, and he and his sons had strayed from the righteous path. They had begun to take the best parts of the offerings for themselves instead of burning them on the alter, and they were enriching themselves by taking money from the temples coffers. They had also given up on their role of calling the rich and powerful to task for abusing the poor and helpless. In short, they had “sold out,” and Israel was suffering because of it.
And then Samuel came on the scene.
Usually when we read this passage, we think about the way God calls each one of us. We reflect on how even the most unassuming person can do great things if she or he follows where God leads as both Samuel and the shepherd, David, who he anointed to be the first king of Israel illustrate. But the calling of Samuel is not just about one individual’s invitation to serve a higher purpose.
It hadn’t been all that long since the chosen people had entered the Promised Land and established their own country. Since then the Israelites had resisted several invasions thanks to inspired leadership and divine assistance. It had been an era when the people knew who they were and whose they were, and they had witnessed the fulfillment of God’s promise to protect and guide them often.
But that sense of God’s presence had faded, and the people were despairing. The religious leaders had become corrupt. The spiritual life of the people had grown anemic. More and more people were suffering because fewer and fewer people were following the law. And the country was on the verge of being conquered by the Philistines. Where was the pillar of fire? Where was the cloud full of angels to defeat the enemy? Where was the Voice demanding justice and mercy? Where was the God who had promised never to leave the people?
And God responds, “Here I am.” I have never left you though you haven’t heard me. I know your suffering. I know your fears and your despair. I hear your cries for justice and relief. Here I am, speaking with the mouth of this man. Listen to me and be comforted.
The abuses of the leaders among you shall come to an end. The injustice you endure will cease. Mercy will comfort your suffering, and my blessings will ease your worries and fears. The wolf at your doorstep shall be chased away with its tail between its legs. This… all this that you see around you will come to an end, for I am with you still and “I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle.”
That’s what Samuel was to the people of Israel. He was the reassurance they needed. He was the voice of God comforting them. He was the reminder that God is always present with us. Present in the suffering. Present in the rejoicing. Present in the bright beginnings and in the shadowed endings. Present and shining a light of hope for what the future can still hold.
And he was more than that too.
The Israelites were not entirely innocent of all that Israel had become. They were a part of it just as we are a part of the injustice and suffering that we see in our own time. They stood by and watched it all happen … maybe even took part in it. Perhaps not everyone, but most of them must have stayed quiet or things couldn’t have gotten as bad as they did. So, the assurance of God’s presence that Samuel brought was an affirmation that despite everything God still loved them.
I can imagine the author of the Psalm we heard today living in the time of Samuel. Hearing the words of the prophet and seeing the covenant promise fulfilled once again. Writing the verses of that hymn of praise in awe and gratitude for an unwavering love.
Usually when I hear those words about God hemming us in I feel trapped. I don’t like to think about God knowing everything about me and how I live. But, there are times when it is comforting to know that I am known … and loved. And I think that is exactly what Israel needed to hear.
It must have felt wonderful to know that God was still there. To know that the One who knew everything about you … had always known everything about you … had been watching you from before you were born … to know that that God still loved you. To know that in spite of all the mistakes you had made, in spite of your sins and the way that people around you were selling out … God still saw the good in you and cared enough to speak to you, offering guidance and hope, wisdom and mercy. That was exactly the message that Israel needed to hear.
It’s a message that we need to hear too.
We Anabaptists tend focus a lot on what we need to do better, how we need to live better in order to answer our call as disciples. Especially at the beginning of each new year, we reflect on what has been, on who we have been, and we make resolutions about what we want to do differently. And that’s good. We should be striving to live more in keeping with God’s hopes for us. But … but we miss that mark so often that it seems a little bit like an exercise in futility.
God knows all of that. God is there each time we make mistakes and each time we get it right. God sees us casting our nets or sitting under our fig trees or turning away from others in need or yelling at the people we love. God watches us … not like a political pundit or an adversary waiting to pounce on every weakness or inconsistency in order to tear us down, but as a loving parent watches her children, hoping to see them succeed, waiting to guide and protect them, ready to pick them up when they stumble, prepared to become whatever they need to grow and learn and become something wonderful.
You are known.
Your strengths and the goodness within you are known.
Your struggles and weaknesses are known.
God understands you and what you need … perhaps better than you do yourselves. And no matter what you do or how many oceans you cross , God is waiting … calling … ready to be sacrifice and rabbi, savior and friend … ready to meet you where you are and be what you need because you are something wonderful –
a beloved child of God.
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