Ordinary or Extraordinary?

The Third Sunday after the Epiphany, Year A

January 26, 2014

The Rev. Christopher L. Caddell

The world is full of seemingly ordinary people who are able to do extraordinary things.  Over the past year or so, the world has been captivated by a few of their stories. 

People like Malala Yousafzai, the young woman who stood up for women’s education in Pakistan, and even after being shot by the Taliban continues to be a force of change in her part of the world.

We were also recently reminded of the contributions of Nelson Mandela, who endured prison in apartheid South Africa, only to become it’s first democratically elected president. 

And Pope Francis, the first non-European pope since the 8^th century, is already changing the face of the Roman Catholic Church, as well as the perception of Christianity around the world.

While each of these may not seem too ordinary to us now, they most likely would be unknown to us had they not chosen to follow a call.  Perhaps amongst other things, one thing each of these amazing people has in common is a sense of their vocation that has enabled them to do extraordinary things.

In his book Let Your Life Speak, author Parker Palmer says that vocation can be understood as “something I [must] do, for reasons I’m unable to explain to anyone else and don’t fully understand myself but that are nonetheless compelling.”[1] 

That’s how we often think of vocation in the Church, if we think of it at all.  Vocation is a word that carries a certain amount of weight, usually accompanying a radical change in someone’s life that defies a rational explanation.  It’s the model that’s placed before us again and again, and deeply embedded in the psyche of the Church. 

We get our ideas about vocation from both scripture and tradition.  The Old Testament patriarchs and matriarchs hear God’s voice and make large and tangible changes in their ways of life – leaving familiar surroundings and relative safety behind to move to a foreign land. 

The prophets respond to God’s call by speaking out against corrupt authority and doing it in a way that attracts attention to themselves.

Paul leaves behind a lifetime of learning and dedication to Judaism only to become the most ardent and outspoken of apostles of the early Christian movement. 

And from beyond the biblical witness, the Church leaves behind a legacy of people who have been dedicating their lives to Christian vocations by serving as monks and nuns, priests and pastors, Christian educators and authors. 

All leaving behind some semblance of “normal life” to pursue this vocation.

Today’s gospel text is another example.  It is Matthew’s version of Jesus calling the first disciples.  Peter, Andrew, James, and John will come to be four of Jesus’ closest friends and companions.

On one hand we could say that these four men fit the pattern of vocation that I have just described.  Their decision to follow will take them places that were unfamiliar and away from the safety of home.  As they left their nets and boats behind others must have thought they were foolish and unwise. Certainly in following Jesus they did something that arguably they couldn’t fully explain either to themselves or to others, but nevertheless found so compelling that they had no other choice but to follow Jesus.

We, of course, have the benefit of knowing the rest of their story.  We know what is coming for these four men – the amazing things that they will see and do, what they will learn, and what they will teach to others, and the influence that they will have on generations of people far and wide all the way down to you and me. 

Peter, Andrew, James, and John may be ordinary fishermen, but it is hard to separate out of our minds who they will become and the impact they will have.  Just like Malala Yousafzai, Nelson Mandela, or Pope Francis, it is hard to see the simple beginnings of these four disciples.

Perhaps that is why it is important for us to be reminded so often of just how Jesus called his disciples.  Last week we heard John’s version, with the invitation to “Come and see.”  But this week it is Matthew, and that invitation is somewhat different. 

There is the invitation to from Jesus to follow, but there is more to it.  “Follow me,” Jesus says, “and I will make you fishers of people.”

The invitation is not about following just Jesus to observe what he is doing, but to follow by entering into a relationship with him, with each other, and with those that they will meet along the way.  These ordinary fishermen, living an everyday life, are invited to be a part of God’s plan for salvation by choosing to be in relationship with others.

The question for us is not whether or not we have a vocation, a call.  The fact that you are here is evidence enough to say that you have been called, and that you are already responding to that call.  We are, however, reminded this morning that our vocation joins us to one another in relationship, both inside and outside the walls of this building.  And it is through those relationships that we have the chance to participate in God’s mission of salvation.

Perhaps that is a little hard to wrap our minds around.  I’ll admit it can seem far-fetched.

But humor me for a moment, and I want you to call to mind one significant relationship in your life, someone who has made you who you are today.  Think of someone who has taught you how to love, how to forgive, how to be when you are truly at your best. It could be a long-term relationship, or a brief encounter, but someone who has shaped your life in some meaningful way.

Hold that person in your mind.  You got it?

Now imagine that that you and that person never met.  

How would you be different?  What in you would be lacking because that relationship never happened?

Now I want you to call to mind someone in your life now; someone to whom you have a significant connection. It can be someone brings you particular joy, or sorrow, or frustration, or hope.  Hold that person in your mind.

How is God using you to make a meaningful difference in that person’s life?  How does that Christ-shaped relationship bring this person and the world a little closer to God’s vision for his creation?

That is the vocation, the call of a disciple – to allow God to work through the people and relationships he places in our lives.  And while we may think of our lives as ordinary, following Jesus and being fishers of people brings about extraordinary things.  Amen.

---

[1] Parker J. Palmer, Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation, San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2000, 25.

Where to begin?

The Second Sunday after the Epiphany, Year A

January 19, 2014

The Rev. Christopher L. Caddell

Where do you begin?

The first major construction project that I was involved in was nearly twenty years ago now.  It was the new Special Events Center on the campus of a University that will remain unnamed for the purposes of this sermon.  But it suffices to say that it was a complex and complicated project.

I was a lowly student worker back then, with the grand title of Assistant to the Project Inspector.  I took the job not knowing very much about anything that I would be doing.  All I knew was that I needed a job, preferred that it be in the construction industry, and the University was hiring. 

On my first day, I walked into the Project Inspectors office to find an extremely gruff man, hardened by forty years of field experience and aged by the carton of cigarettes he smoked each day.  Ken wasted no time in putting me to work.

On my first day he handed me a stack of papers – something that I later came to know were called Addendums – that reflected changes to the construction plans.  Those plans were daunting.  Nearly 1,000 pages in plan sheets, a three volume spec book (each of which required their own 4” three-ring binder), and a set of Addendums that were almost as thick.

 On my first day, I was told to take the Addendums and “post” them to the plans. Posting is essentially a cut and paste project – something that I’ve watched both my children do in Kindergarten – but after staring at this new project for several hours you could hardly tell I had even started.

I was overwhelmed.  What had I gotten myself into?  I hadn’t a clue what I was doing, and I was sure that this job was not going to last long.  I didn’t even know where to begin.

After spending nearly half the day tucked away in my office, my new boss walked in and in his gruff voice said, “Come on kid, let’s go for a walk.”  I was sure that this was the point where he was going to tell me, “Don’t you know anything?  You’re probably not cut out for this job.”

Instead, we walked out to the project site where they were drilling the first pier.  Ken didn’t say much but rather just let me watch as this massive piece of equipment drilled a six-foot diameter hole thirty-feet deep into the ground.

I’m sure the look on my face said it all.  I was amazed and astonished.  I had never been around such a complex project in my life, and yet here I was with absolutely no clue what I was doing.

That day began what would be a daily ritual for Ken and me.  Every day we would find a time to walk around the project together.  Whether it was sitework, structural, or finishes we would spend an hour or two together looking.  Ken remained a man of little words – often just pointing and leaving me with the task of trying to figure out what his experienced eye saw.

But four years and two major construction projects later, I had seen a lot.  Over the next eight years, I would see and learn even more.  But looking back I had come a long way from “I don’t even know where to begin.”

I imagine that story resonates in many places in our lives.  There are all kinds of places where we can feel unqualified, overwhelmed, and completely lost.  Not the least of which is our journey of faith. 

Last week we were reminded that God is continually making new beginnings.  Noah, Abraham, Moses, the people of Israel, Jesus– all of these were new starts, fresh beginnings.  And today we have another new beginning.  It is John’s version of the calling of the first disciples.

 Andrew, along with another of John’s disciples, meets Jesus for the first time.  It is John’s words about Jesus that make them curious – Look; here is the Lamb of God!

One wonders what they hoped to find in following Jesus.  Perhaps they didn’t even know.  After all, when Jesus questions them about what they are looking for, the best that they can offer is a question about where he is staying.

Would they have even followed had they known what lay ahead for them? 

What if Jesus had said, to follow me you will travel far and wide,

sleep in boats and in the fields,

never know where your next meal will come from,

listen to my teaching and witness the things that I do

and then be pushed to do those same things in my name.

And by the way, all of this will put you in grave danger.

And when the time is right, I will confront the authorities in Jerusalem,

and you will witness my brutal execution and burial,

and you will run for your lives.

Oh, and when all of that is completed,

that’s when it all really begins for you,

because you will carry on what I will begin,

travelling even farther and sharing this message with an even larger audience,

and coming into your own conflict with authority,

and losing your own life for the sake of others.

Instead, Jesus offers the very simple invitation to “Come and see.”

He doesn’t tell them what lies ahead.  He doesn’t even answer their question.  Just the gentle invitation to follow and see for themselves.

The teaching will come.

The challenges will be there.

The work, that even looking back is seemingly impossible, will come in time.

But it is the journey with Jesus, all beginning with a simple invitation, which will form them, prepare them, and give them the power to do ministry in his name.

That simple invitation is ours as well. 

Come and see.

Take a walk.

Journey with me and see what will come. 

Whether we are just beginning that journey or have been on this road our whole life, Jesus invites us deeper and deeper into the mystery of our faith with the simple words, “Come and see.”

It is our invitation to accept, and all we have to do is follow.  Amen.

A New Beginning

The Baptism of Our Lord, Year A

January 12, 2014

The Rev. Christopher L. Caddell

A new beginning….

This week ten of your fellow parishioners made a New Year’s resolution, of sorts.  Like the group last year, this group has committed itself to taking the Bible Challenge – to read the bible in its entirety in one year. That’s no small task, and yet, encouraged by those who came before, they have made the commitment and on Monday these 10 people jumped in with both feet. 

In the introduction to the book that that group is using, the editor suggests that we should, “Read the bible slowly and meditatively, as if it were a love letter written by God especially to you.”

On day one that wasn’t too hard.

We began from the very beginning.  The story of creation.  The story of a loving, powerful God who spoke everything into being – the heavens and the earth, the sea and all the creatures that live in it, the birds of the air and beasts of the field, and every living creature that has breath – God created them, and God said it was good.

Still, God’s creation is not finished.  It is not complete without humankind.  And so, God creates Adam and Eve, creatures in God’s own image, a son and daughter of the Creator himself.  And God said it was very good.

And yet very soon, the wheels begin to fall off, and before too long, things have turned downright bleak.

The good creation that God had made is so corrupt, so far from his plan that God sees no other option but to destroy all living creatures, save Noah and the things he brings on the ark, and start anew. 

As bleak as that story is, it points to a God who is actively engaged in restoring his creation.  Through Noah and his descendants, life as God intended is given a new chance.

Yet things turn as quickly after Noah as they had before, and the rest of this story will be God moving through people, places, and events, looking to restore the goodness, the righteousness of his creation.

There will be Abraham, the father of many nations, through whom the entire world will be blessed.

Then Moses who, by God’s power, will lead a people out of slavery into freedom.

That people will make a covenant with God so that they might be a beacon of light to all. Through them all nations would be able to see God’s goodness and choose to live as God intended.

There will be Judges, Kings, and Prophets, all of whom, when they are at their best, seek to point God’s people toward living into the covenant that was made.

There will be exile and return, again providing a fresh slate though which that light might be rekindled and burn brightly.

And, of course, in time comes Jesus.  The one through whom we know God’s plans would finally be fulfilled.

And yet that story starts quite oddly.

Jesus travels from his home in Galilee to the Jordan where John is baptizing.  After some initial hesitation, John consents to baptizing Jesus.  The heavens are opened, God’s Spirit descends, and a voice from heaven declares, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

It is a scene that has caused much confusion and even some embarrassment for Christians over the centuries.  Why, after all, would Jesus need to be baptized?

And then we are reminded of where we are in the story. Jesus’ baptism is the first recorded act of Jesus’ adult life and ministry.  This is the beginning of the Christian story.  All that flows from here – the teaching, the healing, the calling of disciples, the selfless act of laying down his life for the sake of others – all of that began in the river Jordan.

And while we might hear pieces of our Trinitarian theology in the voice that comes from heaven, the first Christians would have heard son of God as a royal title.  It was an anointing, a commissioning, a public act that identifies Jesus as the Messiah.  This is the new king; this is the one who is to bring in God’s reign, this is God acting in the world to set things right.

It is a fresh start.  A new Moses. A new Adam.  And from here, all righteousness will finally be fulfilled.

The interesting thing about the arc of scripture is that the story doesn’t end when we come to the end of the book.   That sweeping story that begins with Genesis and moves through Revelation does not complete the story.  God’s active work in healing the world did not end with Noah, or Abraham, or Moses, or the people of Israel, or even with Jesus and his disciples.

We are deeply intertwined in God’s plan for restoring the creation to wholeness.

We are anointed in our baptism.  With that we say, “You are sealed by the Holy Spirit in baptism and marked as Christ’s own forever.”  It is not something we simply do or say, but symbolizes the reality of what is taking place.  We are anointed, marked, and forever changed to be – in Christ and through Christ – the very agents of God’s healing of the world.  In short, we carry on the work begun by Jesus – loving, forgiving, healing, caring for others, and putting the needs of others before our own.

It is that time of year when some are naturally inclined to step back and take a look at their lives.  With the best of intentions, we seek to make changes.  We look for ways to better ourselves, our habits, our health, our relationships.

And while all of that is good, I want to suggest to you that you take a moment to listen to the words that are spoken in our baptism and take them into yourself –

“You are sealed by the Holy Spirit, and marked as Christ’s own forever.”

Hear in them the words of God who is deeply committed to setting the world right.  A God who loves His creation so much that He will not stop until all things in heaven and on earth are the way that they are intended to be.  A God who sees in you and in me the continuation of his love story with all that he has made.

Our whole story and life begins here.  It’s a clean slate.  A new beginning.  And a chance to live life as it was intended, as sons and daughters of God, made in his image.  Amen.