“Call and Response”
Isaiah 6:1-8; Matthew 16:18-22
January 17, 2010
First Presbyterian, Fort Smith
Art Bell
This sermon is partly in response to the current situation in this congregation. However, it could be heard as an attempt to politicize or advocate a particular path. I am risking preaching it today because it is intended, rather, to speak to the realities of God’s intent for you and for me.
In our Scriptures there are many narratives of God’s call to the faithful. People really are called by God, you know. At one Interim Ministry Network’s conference a speaker clarified that in this way—quote: “The word ‘volunteer’ does not appear in the Bible. God doesn’t enlist volunteers. God calls disciples.” Unquote.
In the church the word “call” refers to a call from God—usually a call to service. Now, to be called means to be singled out for something. When I’m at home I can enter a series of numbers into our phone and that causes the phone in our son Bruce’s English home to ring. God selects the called just as certainly as I dial Bruce. As Isaiah learned, his call was to be a servant, but our circumstances are different. For Isaiah it occurred in the temple. For you and me it’s likely to occur anywhere outside a temple.
Calling can be either a life-long process or a sudden event. In any case, it’s the way we—each and every one of us—became God’s people. Do you believe God is ultimately in charge? If you do then you have to ask: “Why am I here?” Friends, you’ve been called. It all started with Abram in Genesis, chapter 12. There the record states: that the Lord said to Abram: “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.” This was a risky task for Abram. The clan—his relatives among whom Abram lived—was his primary protective force in the largely lawless countryside. But he went. God’s practice of calling people comes through the ages, down to you and me. We do not initiate the calling process or create the event. We can only respond, for we did not choose God. God chose us! Each and every one of us is called to be a brother or a sister of Christ. The response, however, always entails risk.
The call of God is sensed by different people in different ways. For me, I sense God’s call in the voices of people, either folks I know or those whom I hear from in connection with my own calling to be a Short-Term Interim Pastor. They include Presbytery Executives (or General Presbyters), Committee on Ministry members and fellow Pastors.
We just read the narrative of God’s call to Isaiah. Scholars are convinced that he was a priest in the temple when the call came to him in the form of a vision. It must have been an awesome experience. I doubt that we can truly catch the full impact of it all. For an ordinary person to find the Lord God in the temple would be shocking enough, but for a priest it had to be very nearly overwhelming. Who among us would risk the ridicule, if he or she would to claim to speak to God and hear God’s own voice?
The passage concerning Jesus’ baptism is the confirmation of Jesus’ call, as the voice of God confirmed his Sonship to the Almighty.
The Gospel we read is of another call. The disciples had been fishing all night. They had caught nothing. Another Gospel relates that Jesus directed them to put out into the deep water. The lake had earned a notorious reputation for sudden, violent storms, so they had remained close to shore so they could escape to land, should such a storm arise. The only power they had to move their boats were sails and muscle power. They wanted to remain safe. However, Jesus said—in effect—that safety isn’t his goal. His purpose is that results are produced! What happened? The catch was so large that they had to call for help to get all the fish into the boat. They took a risk and God saw to their safety.
William Willimon writes of a young woman Pastor who was assigned by her Bishop to a small, struggling church. A few old women were the only members. Apparently she heard God’s call in the unimpressive instructions from the Bishop: “They won’t expect much,” he said. “Just visit them and do the best you can.” So she did. She became a serious Pastoral presence in that church and a good friend to many of those members. Before long, however, she noticed that lots of children passed the church on their way home from school every day.
Soon she had recruited one of the ladies who was willing to tune up her arthritic fingers to play the piano. Another grandmother volunteered to make peanut butter sandwiches. So each Wednesday they invited the children to sing, and snack, and learn. In a year they had 100 children each Wednesday afternoon. Soon the children brought their parents, and whole families came to church and Sunday School together. Willimon testifies that the board of the church met the next year and asked the Bishop to move their new Pastor. “It’s just not the same church,” they said. The “new people” had changed the character of the congregation. That Pastor’s work was successful, but it spoiled the congregation’s comfort. The peoples’ temporary comfort level was more important to them than the long-term survival of the congregation. They were unwilling to the response.
In a large church where I was the Interim Pastor, we had a Friday noon-time men’s Bible study. At one of these gatherings we started talking about what might be effective in reviving the life of that congregation. One of the men indicated his conviction that a vision for mission, shared by the whole congregation, could be the key to the revival we yearned for.
With that idea in mind we noted the great number of under-nourished and homeless children and families living near that downtown church building. Perhaps, we said, it would be fruitful to make the whole lower floor of the building into a haven for these families. It could be complete with volunteers from the church to teach young mothers home-making skills, to train adults in how to effectively search for work, to run tutoring programs for the youngsters, and to provide other services that would help put families back on their feet. However, the largest part of that lower floor had recently been remodeled at a cost of several tens of thousands of dollars. No one here will be surprised to learn that the idea died an early death. Again, reluctance to risk! Whether a parallel decision is made here depends on your response to the call of God.
Our baptism—yours and mine—is God’s call to discipleship. What happens after that, as far as this life is concerned, is the way we “Respond to the Call!” In truth, the question is: “Are we volunteers or are we disciples?” Amen.