Luke 5:1-11 (Isaiah 6:1-8)
Call Stories
James Sledge February
10, 2019
On
my Facebook feed I’ve seen some of my colleagues commenting on their churches’
annual meetings. It’s that time of year in the Presbyterian Church. Some
churches make a big deal out of it and some simply vote on the pastor’s terms
of call. In many congregations, including this one, the annual meeting includes
electing a new class of elders and, if the church has deacons, deacons as well.
Electing
people as elders and deacons has changed a lot over the years. At one time, becoming
an elder on the Session was a little like getting put on the Supreme Court. You
were likely to stay there until you retired from it or died. This had some good
points. It made elder a very esteemed ministry, and it meant that churches were
very selective in seeking out people who were called to such ministry.
There
was a down side, of course. Sessions sometimes got pretty old and crusty. Some
became heavily invested in making sure nothing ever changed. At some point the
negatives outweighed the positives, and the denomination instituted the term
limits that we have now where no one can serve more than six years without
taking at least a year off.
And
so we’re much less likely to have old and crusty Sessions. In many
congregations, it is unheard of for anyone to serve more than a single, three
year term, and incoming classes of elders and deacons are routinely filled with
people who’ve never been one before. This sometimes makes it difficult to find
enough people year after year to fill all the slots. Talk to anyone who’s ever
served on a nominating committee, and you’ll likely hear about all the times
people said “No” when asked if they would serve.
I
served on a nominating committee at the church where I was a member before
going to seminary, and the pastor is always a member of the nominating
committee, so I’ve had a lot of experience with the process. In my previous
church we even went to a system where the nominating committee came up names
but the associate pastor and I made the actual calls to ask people if they
would serve. It was an idea meant to take away what many saw as the most
difficult part of being on a nominating committee and make it easier to recruit
people for that.
In
none of the calls that I’ve made over the years, nor in any I’ve heard about
from a nominating committee member, has anyone ever responded with anything
along the lines of what Isaiah or Simon Peter say in our scripture readings for
today. Isaiah cries out, "Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man
of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips.” Of course
Isaiah has actually just seen God, and I don’t suppose anyone ever mistook a
member of the nominating committee for God.
Simon
hasn’t seen God, but he has good reason to think God is involved in what is
happening. And so he says to Jesus, "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a
sinful man!” Unlike Isaiah who may well have been a priest and was
certainly an educated man, Simon Peter is a lowly fisherman. But like Isaiah
before him, he too is worried about getting too close to what God is up to.
Simon has picked up enough theology to know that a holy God and sinful humans
makes for a volatile situation.
Now
perhaps you don’t see any connection between Simon Peter’s situation and that
of someone approached by a nominating committee about being an elder or deacon,
but I’m not so sure. The Book of Order
says this about the calling to be an elder, deacon, or pastor, which are all
considered “ordered ministry” in our denomination. “The call to ordered
ministry in the Church is the act of the triune God.” And nominating committees
frequently speak of discerning those whom God is calling to ministry.
We
use such language, but I’m not so sure we actually believe it. Mainline
Christianity has gotten pretty skilled over the years at doing church all by
ourselves, without much sense of the awesome presence of the living God in our
midst. There’s an old quote from Annie Dillard that I’ve used before that I gets
at what I mean.
On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside of the catacombs,
sufficiently sensible of conditions. Does anyone have the foggiest idea what
sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a
word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry
sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear
ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash
helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should
lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or
the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return.[1]
There
are so many ways to do church with almost no sense that God is present.
Worshipers can be spectators who come to see the performance by those on the
stage. Pastors can offer prayers that are addressed mostly to the congregation
and not to God. Offerings and pledges can be made to keep the programs I like
running, rather than out of a deep spiritual practice for giving my entire self,
including my finances, to God. It is so easy for church to be about getting a
little religion or finding a bit of spirituality or even just habit, and not
about life that is transformed by the presence and call of God in Christ.
When
Isaiah or Simon Peter actually encounter the presence of God, it is so awesome
as to border on terrifying. It is not something that can be used or managed,
that can be plugged into or turned off at will. When first encountered, the
natural reaction is a desire to flee. But then comes reassurance. Then comes
the call. And everything changes.
There is no, “Oh, I’m too busy,” or
“This is really not a good time.” Boats, nets, livelihoods are left behind.
Priorities are radically reordered. Life’s focus totally changes. Nothing is
ever the same again.
________________________________________________________________________
When
I first went to seminary, one of the things I discovered was that everyone
there had a “call story.” Students often identified with this biblical
character or that one when they told their story of experiencing a call, trying
to run from it, then finally responding.
One
of the other things I discovered was that seminary students and pastors often
talk as though call stories happen only to them. Perhaps this was a notion picked
up in their home congregations, this idea that only a few, special folks are
called.
But
Christian faith, the Bible, and Presbyterian theology all say something
completely different. All are an integral part of the body. By the power of the
Holy Spirit, the risen Jesus comes to all, and all are granted gifts by the
Spirit. And everyone is called to ministry. Some are called and ordained to
ordered ministry so they can lead a congregation in its ministry in the world,
but everyone who is joined to Christ in baptism is called to some form of
ministry. Which means that everyone has a call story. What’s yours?
[1]
Annie Dillard, Teaching a Stone to Talk, (New York: Harper Collins,1982,
e-edition, 2007) p. 49.
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