4th Sunday After The Epiphany/Lectionary 4 2.3.2019
Luther Memorial Church Seattle, WA
The Rev. Julie Hutson
Jeremiah 1: 4-10 + Psalm 71: 1-6 + 1 Cor. 13: 1-13 + Luke 4: 14-30
Grace, mercy, and peace are yours from the God who calls us. Amen.
We hear a lot about prophets in our readings today. In the reading from the Older Testament, we hear the story of how God called the prophet Jeremiah to bring God’s word to the nations. Jeremiah, though, was a reluctant prophet, protesting that he was not possibly old enough to take on this task.
In the Gospel reading for today, Jesus is back in his home congregation, if you will, in the synagogue in Nazareth, where he’d been raised. He was reading from the prophet Isaiah and announcing that his presence there was the fulfillment of what Isaiah had said about how God calls and speaks through prophets. Noting the skepticism of his former Sunday school teachers and neighbors (my interpretation), Jesus observes that a prophet is never accepted in their hometown.
But what is a prophet, exactly? Too often, when we think of those who prophecy we imagine that they are fortune tellers, able to predict what is going to happen in the future. And that’s not at all how God uses the prophets God calls. Prophets then and prophets now are those who tell and share God’s story. Who, in their speaking and acting reveal the nature of God and the presence of God in the world.
Prophets can be unlikely people and are almost always received, especially where they are known very well, with skepticism which may be steeped in over familiarity.
So, today, I want to share a prophetic encounter that has shaped my understanding of God.
I woke up on that hot summer morning, and did something I usually never do. I dared God. Or rather I demanded something of God. You see, it was the day the movers were coming to pack up all of my worldly goods to move me to a small community where I would become something I’d never been: a stranger and a pastor. This community was located in one of the synods I’d left off of my preferences in the first call paperwork. So, still lying there in bed, I said to God….if you want me to go and do this thing you’ve called me to do in this strange place….you’re going to have to give me a sign. And I waited. And waited. Nothing.
So I got up, got dressed and about an hour later the movers arrived at the door. Three of them: Omar, Jamal, and Kevin. We walked together through the house as they compared what they’d been given on the estimator’s list with what they saw in the house. Omar, who was the lead mover, had a sharp eye and noticed things the estimator had missed: a garden hose here, an outdoor chair there. When he asked me about them I acknowledged how frazzled I was and how grateful I was for his awareness. And then I mumbled something like: “I guess this is why you’re the professionals and I’m the not yet ordained pastor.”
Omar stopped in his tracks. “What?” He asked. “You’re a what?” And when I explained why I was moving he called Jamal and Kevin into the room. “You couldn’t know this pastor,” he said. He’d gone from calling me Julie to calling me pastor. “but we pray for our customers every day, whoever we are going to pack up. We pray for them by name. Jamal and I pray and Kevin isn’t so sure about God, but he stands there and we pray. And today we felt an extra burden for you. We didn’t know why but now we do. Praise God!”
Throughout the rest of the day, Omar and Jamal and sometimes Kevin sang hymns and quoted scripture and asked me deeply thoughtful theological questions. Their deep voices surrounded my scattered belongings and my equally scattered emotions: “What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear”. “Pastor”, Omar asked, “What do you think Ezekiel saw when he saw the wheel?”
Later in the afternoon, when the fairly small truck they’d arrived in was full and there were still belongings to be loaded, Omar encouraged me: “There’s always another chariot in the Lord’s army.”
That evening, Taylor and I drove several hours to our new town, where we slept on pallets on the floor of the parsonage. Bright and early the next morning, the two trucks arrived, Omar driving one, Jamal the other, and Kevin riding shotgun. They greeted us like family and to be sure, they were the only familiar faces we knew. After assuring us of their morning prayers, they set about unloading our belongings into our new home. When they’d finished, Omar approached me thoughtfully. “We’d like to ask if we can pray with you and Taylor before we leave.”
And so we stood in the kitchen, Omar, Jamal, Kevin, Taylor and me…surrounded by boxes….in this unfamiliar place where God and the Church had called me. Omar, Jamal, and even Kevin placed their hands on us and prayed. For twenty minutes. Maybe more. They prayed for us and for the people of the town and for the church and the people of the church. They remembered stories of those God had called and God’s faithfulness. They prayed for the Spirit to dwell deeply in us and to give me power and to take away my fear. They prayed for grace and mercy. Although I would be ordained three weeks later, I was anointed for ministry that day, by three prophets named Omar, Jamal, and Kevin, who I would never see again, but whose presence in my life would shape how I understand prophets and ministry and the priesthood of all believers.
This, then, is what I know for sure:
Prophets are people called by God to tell God’s story. They include Jeremiah and Isaiah and Micah and Ezekiel. They include Esther and Miriam and Mary and Mary of Magdala. They include Martin Luther and Martin Luther King, Jr. They include Sojourner and Ruby. They include our Sunday School students and our Sunday School teachers. They include Omar, Jamal, and yes, even Kevin, who reminded me that carrying doubt does not preclude one from being a prophet.
We are called, all of us, to be the bearers of the Good News of the love of God in Christ Jesus into the world. We find our prophetic voices to bring good news to the poor, proclaim release to the captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and to let the oppressed go free. Like Jeremiah, we may think we are not possibly equipped for this task. But God promises to be with us. God promises to never leave us.
And finally, I know this to be true: Signs of the Kin-dom and the presence of God are all around us, even when we don’t demand them. Sometimes they knock on the door of our homes and sometimes they slip quietly into our day or our hearts.
Beloved community, prophets are in our midst even as we are being called to tell the story ourselves.
As surely as God called Omar, Jamal and Kevin, God is calling us.
How will we answer?
Thanks be to God and let the church say…Amen.