[Helen Keefe preached this sermon on January 17. The lessons for the day included the call of Samuel and the call of Philip and Nathanael. The occasion was the Annual Meeting of our congregation. It struck me. I wanted to share it.]
Well, here I am.
Here I am - in this place, at this time, through the grace of God.
Here I am, because God's voice calls me - through your voice.
Thanks be to God, here I am.
I have thought about that phrase for weeks now.
Here I am. We all say it:
You called? Here I am. You asked for volunteers? Here I am.
You're taking roll? Here I am.
Beyond the simple statement of fact, it is a declaration of presence and alertness. Here I am. Ready.
Then I thought what if I added a comma? Here, I AM. Here. In this place, in this time. I am. I exist. I can't be in the past or in the future. Just here, now. I am who I am, shaped by my life this far, honed by this time, this place, these people. I am who I am because I am, Here. We spend so much of our life trying to figure out who we are. Let's concentrate on the fact that we ARE.
Here I am, and I am should sound familiar. From Genesis to Revelation, over 300 times we hear God and people say it.
God tested Abraham. He said to him "Abraham!" And Abraham said, "Here I am." And Abraham said, Here I am."
On the road to be sacrificed, Isaac called out, Father!
Here I am, Abraham told his son.
As Abraham raised the knife, an angel called his name, Abraham, Abraham! And Abraham answered, Here I am.
Again and again in the story of our spiritual ancestors, a name is called, and a person answers, Here I am.
Moses came upon a burning bush and heard his name, Moses, Moses!
And he said, Here I am.
Right up through the first chapter of Luke, when Mary said, Here I am, a servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word,
and through the last verses of Revelation, God assures us, I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, be beginning and the end,
so in today's first lesson we hear it five times, Here I am.. --Yet it takes Eli a few times to get it.
It's a response to when our name is called.
Maybe you've heard your name called, and it's taken a few times or more to get it, Nah, that's somebody else's name. Nah, sorta sounds like mine but--nope. Nah, it's the wind.
Listen to the wind--that's how the Spirit travels. God knows us and calls our name and searches us out and reassures us that we are wonderfully made.
I use those words from the psalm in a retreat called Scarred Body, Bounteous Spirit.
I take people back to their baptism and into the psalm and invite them to hear God's praise and blessing,
You are wonderfully made. You are mine, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.
We hear those words on First Epiphany last week, when we went clear back to John's baptism, back to Jesus' baptism.
The retreat I mentioned is for people who have experienced life-changing injury or illness, people who need to hear the good news of God's unconditional love.
That applies in a way to all of us now, for we have been through, and are still living in, a life-changing event. Yet we can reassure ourselves with the words from the psalm, I am marvelously made.
Say that out loud to yourself right now and believe it.
I am marvelously made.
Who are we to call God a liar?
You may feel you have been beaten down and beaten up in the past year. Yet God insists that we tell ourselves, I am marvelously made.
Oh God, 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.
I've seen people knit something, then unravel it and re-knit it, then reknit it over and over until it is just how they vision it. Maybe now is a time in which God is recreating us in our inmost parts. We are being re-knit, re-made in the inmost depths of ourselves. God continues to see me, and know me, and tweak me toward my best self.
And we as a congregation are marvelously made. This mutual ministry congregation not only says, Here we are, but We ARE. Now. Here. Called to turn, learn, pray, worship, bless, go, and rest.
Called to be peacemakers. Called to gather and support each other in a variety of ways: online worship and study; compline with planets and stars; card ministry; outreach.
Nancy and Jeff highlighted some of these things in their Annual Meeting notes. Nancy focused on the positive things that this year has brought, things that revealed the power of the Holy Spirit at St. Andrews in 2020... we have thrived, she said, in worship, in outreach, and in Christian formation.
Another thing we do well is to enjoy each other's company, even when it's online. Some of us had one of those times last Thursday, and it's fun to experience how wide ranging the conversation flows.
We laughed, and talked about books and long drives to escape COVID cabin fever. We talked about the reconciliation and healing our country sorely needs. Steve was still glowing as he talked again about Epiphany. Remember when he asked us to think back to a time when we experienced our Epiphany of Christ in our lives?
He talked more Thursday evening about Epiphany as a time of celebration of all the Aha! moments throughout the church year and as a time when the divinity of Jesus is recognized and celebrated. We hear that in today's gospel.
Actually we can back up to the verses just before today's reading, when two disciples heard John the Baptist say, Look, here is the Lamb of God! So they followed Jesus. One of the two was our own Andrew. He found his brother Simon and said to him, "We have found the Messiah."
Having just invited Andrew and Peter to go to Galilee with him, Jesus found Philip and said, Follow me. Then Philip found Nathanael, who was dubious, Can anything good come out of Nazareth? We all have a town name we would insert there, don't we? But did you hear how many times I said found? Jesus found them, and they found each other and formed a community.
God finds people through God's people. Come and see, we hear when others call our name. Our calling is always to come and see, then go and find others and tell them the good news and be with them.
Come and see--even when we are dubious.
Then our evening chat turned to Ash Wednesday, now only a month away, February 17. Not that long ago Jan talked about Twelfth Night and the burning of the greens. So this time now is a bridge between that fire and the ashes and the fire of the Easter vigil. We are coming through the fire.
And we talked about the Annual Meeting following today's worship. Mostly we hung out and savored even a virtual view and visit with each other.
But in the end that evening, it was Nancy's shirt that stuck with me. In that Zoom square, in bold letters I read
Tomorrow the country observes one who answered the call. Martin Luther King Jr. inspired people to consider What begins with me? How do I answer when my name is called?
Given the events of these past weeks, I couldn't help but think of one of the people he mentored, Rep. John Lewis, who died last July. The Conscience of the Congress, they called him. Schooled in nonviolence by Dr. King, Lewis lived his whole life as if he were constantly hearing his name and calling others to come and see.
You are the light, Lewis said, You are the light. Never let anyone--any person or any force--dampen, dim, or diminish your light... Release the need to hate, to harbor division, and the enticement of revenge. Release all bitterness. Hold only love, only peace in your heart, know that the battle for good to overcome evil is already won. [John Lewis, That Bridge: A Vision for Change and the Future of America]
King and Lewis and so many others said, with their whole mind and body and spirit, Here I am. See me. Here I am. Send me.
God is God, and I am who I am. With Christ as my vision, with the knowledge that Jesus reigns, I continue to know that
Here I am.
burning bush used under Creative Commons license
Scheveningen Woman Knitting by Van Gogh, in public domain
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