“Speak, Lord, your servant is listening”
The Second Sunday after the Epiphany, 2021
1 Samuel 3:1-10 • 1 Corinthians 6:12-20 • John 1:43-51
I don’t know how it is in your family, but for us we have the issue of making generalizations. I snarl at my sweet husband when he comes out with some critical statement about ‘those’ people, and my daughter justifiably takes me to task when I utter some sweeping generalization of my own. Poppy the dog tends to stay out of those conversations, although she has strong opinions about other more important topics like treats, walks, and cats.
In today’s Gospel, we hear Nathaniel, a judge (we know that because he’s sitting under a fig tree), coming out with a good one: “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”
Sometimes we can even catch ourselves thinking in generalizations. And with the violent social and political unrest bubbling, threatening, and exploding, it’s easy to point fingers at this or that group. While I’m not saying that there’s no truth in our conclusions, our scripture readings and morning’s collect are inviting us not to get stuck there. Because we can so easily, and that is not good for any of us. There is no possibility of healing when we’re all stuck in our corners.
We are dealing with so much, and it’s all so exhausting. It will get easier over time. It may be hard to imagine, but we will be able to gather together and let ourselves laugh and weep over these long months, and how we all coped.
But for now, what we can do is take care of ourselves and our relationships with our loved ones, our communities, and God. Fortunately, we can write letters, make calls, take advantage of the internet. And we can pray.
Finding a quiet time in the day to calm myself and sit in the presence of God didn’t used to be a challenge. I suspect I’m not alone however in finding that much harder these days. There must be a name for a device measuring levels of chaos and disruption; whatever it is, the needle has been in the red zone for a while now, and we can’t help but be affected by it.
We know that the God is not in the earthquake, the wind, or the fire, but is instead in the still small voice, but that’s doesn’t seem helpful when all we can feel, hear or see is so very loud and overwhelming. It is clear however, that when the earthquake, wind and fire are raging, we so very badly need to ground ourselves in God: so much more obviously than when life is gentler.
It’s not as if I don’t know what to pray about. When I begin, the words come tumbling out. Prayers for those suffering, those in harm’s way, those making ‘bad choices’ as my three-year-old grandson would say, for the restoration of our besieged planet, for you, for my loved ones, and for myself. I talk to God plenty in anguished pleas. However, I find it hard to let my torrent of words slow down enough to allow me to hear God’s response.
As we turn to our reading from the Hebrew scriptures this morning, it’s not clear how much listening to God Eli has been doing. Faith-wise, things have not been going well for him. As the leading priest and prophet for his people, he has been a terrible leader, and has exerted no control over his two sons who have been busy raping the women guarding the temple and stealing the sacrificial offerings.
But he does have a young boy in his care, Samuel, whose life has been dedicated to God by his mother Hannah even if, as yet Samuel does not know God. It’s probably not surprising that the first couple of times when God calls Samuel that night that Samuel thinks it must be Eli’s voice.
Samuel, it should be noted, has the job of sleeping in the same room where the Ark of the Covenant is residing. The Ark that is holding the ten commandments, Aaron’s rod, and a jar of manna from the wilderness days. A room that would have been sizzling with the holy, had Samuel known how to see and hear it.
Once Samuel knows the voice does not belong to Eli, he then listens and goes on to do God’s will, participating with his people in the ongoing growth of the God’s kingdom.
“Speak for your servant is listening”.
Many of us have indeed heard God calling in the night to us: reaching for us, inviting us to lay aside any blinders, any excuses, even any lies that we might be hiding behind. And it can only be a challenge knowing how to respond.
God must, in so many ways be mystery to us: how could it be otherwise. And yet, as Psalm 139 tells us, God knows, has always known each one of us, better than we know ourselves. God knows where we can go where we’re stressed. God knows how we can choose to make the damning generalizations. God knows our anger and impatience.
As our psalm tells us:
Oh God, you have searched me out and known me; you know my sitting down and my rising up; you discern my thoughts from afar.
You trace my journeys and my resting places and are acquainted with all my ways. Indeed, there is not a word on my lips, but you know it altogether.
Knowing and believing this can be both deeply alarming and intimately reassuring. While we like others to appreciate our finer points, we’d prefer to keep the darker sides of ourselves hidden. We can hide nothing from God, and there is absolutely nothing we can do about that. Where we do have a choice is what we do with that knowledge. We can ignore it, and just get on with our lives, wearing the blinders, and accepting lies, as our collect warns us. Or we can participate in God’s gaze, allowing our faith to awaken, and see God’s kingdom growing and heaven opening wide, with the Angels of God ascending and descending.
As we turn today towards the Liturgy of the Table, the choir will sing a setting of the powerful hymn ‘I the Lord of Sea and Sky’ with its memorable chorus, the words inspired by today’s reading from first Samuel :
Here I am Lord. Is it I Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go Lord, if you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.
God’s plan for the healing of the world can only be accomplished in relationship with a listening world.
This is not a plan where a distanced God fixes things. For healing and reconciliation to grow, we need to choose to participate with God. We are part of the plan. And working together over the ages, with God’s help, all things will be accomplished and all will be well.