January 22, 2023: May God’s words be spoken, may God’s words be heard. Amen.
Today we celebrate Religious Life Sunday. Now that may sound like – isn’t this what we do every week? I mean, aren’t we all religious? Well, yes, but this is also a term used for those in monastic communities. We are blessed to welcome Sr. Linda Clare from our local Episcopal convent in Mendham, the Community of St. John Baptist. She will be speaking with us later in coffee hour, and I know you all will give her a warm welcome.
I have known Sr. Linda Clare for many years, because I am an Associate of the convent. Associates and Oblates are those who vow to pray for the community, and to live a rule of life. I am humbled to be a part of this good and faithful community. And it is good to celebrate the religious life on this third Sunday of Epiphany, because it is on this day when we hear a story of calling.
In the gospel today, Jesus walks by the shore and shouts out to Simon and Andrew, and then to James and John – all of them fishermen. They dropped everything and went with Jesus. Of course, we remember this as the call of the disciples. But in the case of James and John, their father, Zebedee, remained behind.
I always had to wonder about ole Zebedee. I mean, what happened to him? His sons were likely his security when he reached his aging years – and yet, there they went, leaving their nets – the livelihood for the family, and their dad behind. Did Zebedee not hear Jesus? Did he, miss the boat – so to speak, while he remained in it?
No. I think he knew exactly what his role was, and it was to stay behind and keep things running in the home and in the village. He heard Jesus quite clearly – and answered his own call. I think we struggle sometimes with the idea that we might be called to do – nothing at all.
One of my favorite prayers in our Book of Common Prayer is found in the Ministrations to the Sick, on page 461. It is called In The Morning, and it goes like this.
“This is another day, O Lord. I know not what it will bring forth, but make me ready, Lord, for whatever it may be. If I am to stand up, help me to stand bravely. If I am to sit still, help me to sit quietly. If I am to lie low, help me to do it patiently. And if I am to do nothing, let me do it gallantly. Make these words more than words, and give me the Spirit of Jesus.”
We have times in our life when we are called to action – to go out into the world, and other times when we are called to stay in the boat. But whether we are in the boat or on the road, Christ does call us, and not always once in our lives, but to different paths at different points along the way.
Now before we go any further, let’s be clear that call is not only about ordained life, or as we celebrate today – being part of a monastic community. It may very well be that, but for most it is not, or we would not have that other most important ministry of the church – the lay order.
And, there is another misconception about call. We sometimes imagine that it is something mystical and powerful like, you know, some charismatic Jesus walking by the shore and calling us by name, or Moses encountering a burning bush. We also think that those who are called just get up and go like the disciples.
That may be how a few people feel their call in life, but for most of us, it isn’t quite as clear and easy. In fact, if you ask most ordained or religious people, they will tell you the call was a lot like those reluctant prophets –their reaction to it far more like Jonah, and yes, like Moses (though without the burning bush), than Peter, Simon, James, and John.
Now, it can be hard to consider any call, particularly that which we celebrate today – to monastic life. In fact, it can be difficult for us to even think that God is calling us at all. Maybe its because we expect it to be something overpowering and obvious, you know, like what we heard in the gospel, or a direct message of sorts.
I don’t know if you’all notice this when you walk in here, but there is a sign as you enter the nave with a picture of a mobile phone on it. It says “God may be calling you, but not likely on your cell phone, so please remember to turn it off before the service.” Well, maybe it would be helpful if that was how things worked, although with the way things are today, your mobile carrier might mark the call as spam. I mean, can you imagine it… your phone lights up with “God” on the caller ID?
In some ways, maybe God would have a better chance of reaching us today if God used a mobile phone to text us or Tweet. I can see it: @great-I-am with 100 billion followers. The funny thing is, there is a twitter account @Almighty God, whose description on the account is “I’m into creating universes, smiting people, writing holy books, and listening to prayers. My pronouns are They/Them,” and who recently tweeted in response to all our shenanigans down here “Don’t make me turn this planet around.”
Still, I wouldn’t wait for a tweet, text, or cell phone call directly from God…though, maybe don’t rule that out quite yet. And while it is true that call is not only about ordained or monastic life, let me share with you a bit about another call story, because it has to do with this community of sisters in Mendham. I don’t usually share stories about me, but today, the call story I will tell you is my own.
Years ago, during a particularly difficult time in my life following the death of my wife, the sisters of the Community of St. John Baptist offered compassion, prayer, support, and a safe haven of sorts for this weary soul. Walking the beautiful grounds there gave me a sense of connection to the sacred too, and so I spent a good amount of time at the convent. So much time apparently, that one day, Sr. Lura Grace, who has since departed this life, may God rest her soul, smiled and said something to me as I drove past her on the path to the cloister “You know,” she said “we are going to see you wearing this some day,” as she pointed to her black habit. I laughed, but then I thought – “I should pray about this.”
I remember my priest at the time being shocked that I would even consider this life (he wasn’t the only one – it was a surprise to me too), but I knew that I needed to reflect on this because I was spending so much time there. I felt I shouldn’t reject it out of hand. In the end, I did not sense a call to life in a monastic community, but I did sense a call.
Anyway, long story short, I continued to spend much time in the ensuing years at the convent, particularly visiting the cemetery to have a discussion with the nearly life sized Jesus on a cross there. One late afternoon, I asked Jesus to help me with this sense of call I had. “Was it real? Are you seriously calling me to ordained life? What??? Can’t you give me a sign or something? Please?” Afterward, I went up to the chapel to pray the office with the sisters.
Now, normally, I don’t read the psalms as they are chanted, but let it just wash over me. Yet that time, something compelled me to look down at the text. There in front of me was Psalm 116. I felt a stirring in my heart – It was my life laid out before me. Right then and there I knew nothing would be the same. I was called to be a priest.
There is far more to my own call story, then and now, but most of the time for me, it hasn’t been what I had planned, nor what I particularly wanted for myself. Call is often like that – just look at the prophets: Moses “Anyone but me Lord.” Jeremiah “What me? I’m just a kid!” And Jonah, well he basically said “Hell no!”
Just like the prophets, very few of those who have a call to ordained life respond like James and John, Peter and Simon. In fact, I think a story like today’s gospel can make call sound so far away from anything we might experience ourselves, and so we discount the idea.
And, even if we are able to perceive that we are being called into something, rather than jump out of the boat, we often tend to respond from a place of feeling unworthy, ill equipped, or it being too scary to consider. Yet the truth of it is that call isn’t about us, or at least not in the way we think. As the late and great bishop Barbara Harris once said “God doesn’t call those who are worthy. God makes worthy those whom God would call.”
This is something I have had to repeat to myself over and over again in these past few years of discernment on a call to the episcopate. A call, like that of the priesthood, that I neither expected, wanted, or felt worthy to do. “God doesn’t call those who are worthy. God makes worthy those whom God would call.”
And here’s the thing of it all… the story of James and John, Simon and Andrew, of Zebedee, of all the prophets, the religious, and clergy through the centuries to today – they are all people who are called. What’s more – they aren’t the only ones whom God calls. God calls you too!
Yes, all of you!
God has a call for each of you. Jesus is walking alongside you in your life, calling you to join in his gospel work. The Holy Spirit is shining a light on the path ahead. Do we notice these things? Sadly, we are often moving so fast through life – always doing, always talking, always heading to a destination – and we miss the “still small voice of God” calling us.
This is something monastic communities can teach us, for in their rather counter-cultural life, they offer a witness to the value of not allowing the world to dictate your pace in life, but to offer up times of silence and prayer – of intentional listening to the Holy Spirit. And in their daily life, they remind us that in all things, if done with Jesus in your heart and minds, you are in prayer. Your conversation with God can be while washing the dishes, mowing the lawn, or on your knees in church. All of it is prayer, all of it is listening – all of it is opening your heart to the call of Jesus.
And here’s the thing – that call could very well be something you never could have imagined for yourself, something you feel unable to do, something you even fear being drawn into. In fact, it is more likely than not. But to quote Star Trek’s Borg “resistance is futile.” Just look at Jonah.
So, what do we do? How do we begin to listen to the call of God for us. Well, how about we take a page from the monastics.
When you get home today, rip up your new year’s resolutions and replace it with something far more valuable – a Rule of Life. It doesn’t need to be the full Rule of Benedict, or any other used in monastic communities. No, just something simple, like this:
First rule: “I will seek God’s presence in my life, and listen deeply for the call of Jesus.
Second Rule: “I will ask God to set aside my fear, that I may follow the Spirit wherever I am needed.”
Third Rule: “I will give thanks to God for all that has been, and all that may yet be.”
And finally, add one that is a monastic rule: “I will welcome all people as Christ himself.” For that one will allow us to encounter the Jesus in our midst, the one walking along the shore calling us by name.
I can honestly say that if you do this, if you adopt this small Rule of Life, if you commit to being open to whatever God needs you to do – you will never regret it.
Your call may be a get out of the boat sort of thing, or one that says stay where you are and continue on for now. It may actually be to an ordained life, or one within a monastic community. But one thing is for sure – when you get that proverbial text from God… don’t ghost God, answer it. You might as well, because God isn’t going to stop with the messages until you do.
It doesn’t mean things will be easy when you live out your call, just look at what happened to the disciples, to the prophets, and to many martyrs through the ages.
No, living God’s call isn’t a ticket to a life of ease, but I can guarantee it will be life giving – to you and to all who come to know you. And, you will one day come to wonder how life could have been any other way for you.
Perhaps then you may find that God is calling you again to something else, to get out of that boat and on to another shore. Or, to continue on in your current call.
Either way, if you live the life God intends for you, you will truly know what living really is, and will have a sense of peace that many find hard to imagine.
Amen.
For the audio, click below, or subscribe to our iTunes Sermon Podcast by clicking here (also available on Audible):
The Rev. Diana L. Wilcox
Christ Church in Bloomfield & Glen Ridge
January 22, 2023
The Third Sunday After The Epiphany
1st Reading – Isaiah 9:1-4
Psalm 27:1, 5-13
2nd Reading – 1 Corinthians 1:10-18
Gospel – Matthew 4:12-23
