Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Filling the Gaps


Easter 7, Yr. B, May 20, 2012
Acts 1:15-17, 21-26; Psalm 1; 1 John 5:9-13; John 17:6-19
Sermon preached at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church

            When I was younger, I loved sports.  In gym we played all kinds of games, kickball, volleyball and softball.  Usually the teacher chose two captains, and they would pick teams. I bet many of you may have had the same experience.  We’d all stand in a line facing the captains.  The captains would look up and down the line, eyeing each one of us up.  Then they would start choosing.  First one and then the other, back and forth, picking the best players pretty quickly … while the less skilled stood eyeing their suddenly interesting shoelaces and shuffling their feet. 
Finally the last two would be divided, and everyone rushed off to play.  That line up was a pretty brutal way to choose people.  I’m not sure it was good for anyone involved ... maybe that’s why we don’t do it anymore. 
            After the resurrection, the disciples wanted to choose someone to replace Judas.  They had narrowed it down to two candidates, Joseph and Matthias.  How they got to that point we don’t know.  But after getting there, what did they do?  They prayed.  Lord, you know everyone’s heart.  Show us which one of these two you have chosen to take the place in this ministry and apostleship and then they cast lots.  They tossed dice or sticks, flipped a coin.  They trusted.  Matthias was chosen.  We don’t hear anything about Joseph again.  He fades into oblivion.  Doesn’t that happen a lot to those who come in second?  We don’t remember them.  Ironically, we don’t hear about Matthias again either, even though he was the one who won.  Being chosen doesn’t necessarily mean fame and glory, particularly in this case because most of the apostles ended up getting martyred. 
            The whole idea of call assumes that God has something to say about the calling.  When parishes are searching for a new rector, they go through a process.  They take a good look at themselves, and what they believe they will need to help them become who God is calling them to be.  They look through resumes and read answers to interview questions.  They call references and do phone interviews.  They go to visit prospective candidates, and invite them in to get a better look at them.  They pray.  Hopefully they’ve been praying the whole time, but in the end … they take a leap of faith ... and call someone.  But, you don’t really know who you’ve called until they come.  It’s easy to call someone who doesn’t quite fit, because listening for God can be difficult. 
            It’s difficult because sometimes what we want takes over the whole process.  Priests in a call process want jobs … sometimes desperately.  Parishes get distracted by personalities.  Sometimes it’s hard to tell whether you just really like someone, or whether you’ve found someone with the person with gifts and talents you need.  Liking someone can distract you from the real task of discerning fitness … from finding the right match.
            Something similar happens in our churches.  Maybe we need someone to be a Eucharistic Visitor, or to help in the garden or to greet people at the door.  When we’re small, it’s tempting just to look around for someone who’s not doing anything at the moment, or to ask someone who’s new.  It’s tempting to fill the space with “a body”, rather than taking the time to think about what gifts and talents specific roles might require, rather than taking the time to get to know people well enough to know what they might most like to do.  A real calling uses our inate gifts and abilities, and feeds us.
If we’re looking for someone to help in the garden, we better be looking for someone who enjoys working outside, who doesn’t mind getting dirty, and who finds some enjoyment from growing things.  We can teach them about gardening and composting.  We can teach them the difference between a dandelion and a daisy … but those other pieces aren’t necessarily easily acquired.  They are gifts.
            If we’re looking for someone to be a greeter, it makes sense to look for someone who already reaches out to people, who enjoys helping others, who has a knack for anticipating what people might need, who knows how it feels to be new.  It’s easy to teach someone how to take a head count and hand out a service leaflet.  The other stuff, not so much.  They are gifts.
            If we’re looking for someone to take communion to those who can’t be with us on Sunday mornings … to those who may be sick or homebound, we need someone who is patient and kind, someone who values community, someone who’s a good listener.   We can give someone the script and teach them the order of events, but how someone embodies that role is actually more important and that has a lot to do with personality.  Our personality is a gift.
            We forget that gifts aren’t just skills.  Gifts aren’t particularly things that we’ve learned and gotten good at doing.  Gifts are also innate abilities and personal characteristics … a good sense of humor is truly a priceless gift.  Ask anyone who’s worked with someone who doesn’t have one.  Patience, insight, intuition, problem solving, the capacity to see things from different perspectives, empathy, organization, craftiness, the ability to build things, the capacity to motivate others, or to creatively imagine new possibilities.  These are all gifts.  Gifts that could be used in a variety of settings.  Gifts given by God to us for the good of all, including ourselves.  When we use our gifts, we are fed.
            At the district meeting two weeks ago, we were reminded of the mission statement that Diocesan Council approved recently … Joy in Christ as a way of life.  Joy in Christ.  We were asked to think about what that phrase might mean.  So we divided up into small groups, and we talked about joy in Christ.  To be honest, I wasn’t sure where that had come from, and I wasn’t sure what it was about.  It just didn’t hit home with me.  Surely we weren’t supposed to be just a happy bunch of people.  But people in the different groups were great with that phrase.  Joy in Christ is about knowing that you are loved by God, some said.  If you know that you are loved by God then you are free, free to try things you might not have thought possible.  If you know that you are loved, that joy spills over into the lives of those you touch, another group said.  If you know that you are loved, you can more easily love others … and living that love as a way of life reveals the kingdom of God that is here. 
Joy is not happy slappy.  It’s not superficial.  It’s a deep knowledge of our own worth that comes from being loved unconditionally.  That waterfall of joy flows through us and into the world.  Love draws us toward others.  Love seeks connection.  Having joy in Christ means that we move toward others.  We use our gifts for others.
            Even in times of scarcity, it is important to remember that we live in an abundant world.  God has given every single one of us gifts, and through our relationships with other people, we can put those gifts to good use.  In relationship they will be called out of us.  In community we can help one another find places where our gifts are needed.  We are all chosen.  We are each Matthias.  We call one another out.  You call me.  I call you.  We call on one another.  God calls each one of us.  This interdependence is the way of the kingdom.  We have the gifts.  We just need to find the confidence to use them.
            I would be willing to bet that Matthias found his new life as an apostle something of a surprise.  I’m sure it was more than he imagined.  Like any new job, there’s a learning curve which is pretty steep at the start.  It probably demanded more than he knew he had to offer.  But he was chosen because of who he was.  He had something the community needed, and he responded to their call.  We can do the same.  Look around … what do you have to offer?  How are you being called?  How have you responded in faith?
Amen.

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