January 16, 2000
The word famine is not an unusual word in our lexicon. It is not a word that is very far from our consciousness as we read the headlines. It is also nothing new. Famines have been around since mankind was first driven out of the Garden of Eden and required to till the soil in order to grow their food. Today's famines are not famines of food. Those in the Scriptures read today are a little different.
In Samuel, we have a famine of the word of God. We are told that the word of God had not been heard in a very long time. Eli still went through the motions. Samuel was left in the temple with him to grow up and be his assistant. But, Samuel had never heard the word of God.
Jesus, too, was ministering in a time of great famine. Again, the famine was not of food; in this case, it was a famine of hope — there was none. People were adjusting to the status quo of living in a country occupied by a foreign power. The people had adjusted to a status quo of self-righteous, egotistical, judgmental religious leaders. The people had adjusted to a status quo of decadent and arrogant political leaders.
The people had adjusted to the status quo as poor, downtrodden and defeated common people. In the time of Jesus, there was a famine of hope.
A couple of generations later, Paul writes to the church in Corinth. If you have read the letters, you know they actually tore up one of them. In the first published letter to the Corinthians, he writes, "As I said in my previous letter," (the one he refers to as "in my harsh letter"). We assumed that they did not like it very much and destroyed it before it could be preserved for the Scriptures. Paul writes to the church in Corinth because he was very upset with them. They were the people who claimed Christ, but did not allow Christ to claim them. Paul, in his letter to the church in Corinth is writing to "Sunday Christians." Sunday Christians who claimed Christ, but did not let Christ claim them.
The story of these three famines is as contemporary as the sunrise this morning, for we, too, live in a time when the word of God is not well articulated and even less well little heard. We, too, live in a time when people are accepting the status quo, the way things are as though it is the way things ought to be. We, too, are living in a time where people claim Christ as Lord and Savior, but do not allow Christ to claim them.
The good news in all of this is that God works his purposes out. When God speaks to Samuel in the middle of the night, Samuel does not recognize that it is the voice of God speaking to him. Samuel is called of God, but does not recognize what is happening. Fortunately, though Eli's hope was gone, his experience of a continuing revelation with God had long since vanished along with his hope of how his sons were going to turn out. Back in the recesses of his memory, this man was going through the motions of the high priesthood, yet recalled when God had called him by name. He said to Samuel, "If you hear the voice again, do not come in here. Stay still and say, `Speak Lord, your servant listens.' "
Jesus calls Philip. Philip, from the same town as Andrew, acts like Andrew. You will recall the first thing Andrew did when he came to believe that Jesus was the Messiah was not to fall down and worship, but to run home and get his brother Peter to bring him to meet Jesus. Philip does the same thing. He immediately leaves and runs home to find his best friend, his brother or his cousin Nathaniel, and says, "We have found the Messiah, he is Jesus, the son of Joseph, from the town of Nazareth." Nathaniel quotes that adage saying, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" Philip does not articulate his experience very well as he grips Nathaniel and says, "Come and see! Come and see!"
The people in Corinth were people called to perfection in Christ, but never attaining it. In spite of their lack of perfection, they were the people of God. When we do not recognize God speaking to us, we, too, are called. When we can't articulate the joy of Christ's saving our souls and our very lives, we, too, are called. When we are skeptical, we, too, are called. And when we are imperfect, we, too, are called to discipleship, whether like Samuel who listens without truly hearing, or like Eli who helps Samuel to truly understand and hear the words that are spoken to him.
Sometimes, we are like Nathaniel coming into the church only because someone invited us, only because somebody said, "Come with me." Sometimes, struggling to relate the Gospel to our daily lives, getting through. Sometimes, struggling and failing, trying again and again, succeeding a little bit here and a little bit there. And sometimes, every once in a while, some of us are like St. Paul, writing fiery letters to people who ought to know better, saying, "Get with the program; let your lives be changed because you were made perfect in baptism. You have claimed Christ as your own, now let Christ claim you."
When Jesus went out to the River Jordan to meet his kinsman John, there to be baptized and to be driven into the wilderness, and when he came home after 40 days, he began to teach about the approaching kingdom. When he taught, those words burned in the hearts of some (today we are told about Philip), those "some" went and told the story to others like Philip did for Nathaniel. Almost everybody, including everyone alive today, has heard the story of salvation, not from Jesus himself, but from someone else who had heard the story from someone else, who heard the story from someone else, who heard the story from someone else. . .
For Philip it was spontaneous evangelism, if you will. He found excitement in his heart. His heart burned with the love of God and he went immediately to share that story with someone else. It is my guess, and forgive me if I am wrong, that people today are more likely to tell the story of The Green Mile, or Toy Story II, or some other movie or a football game from yesterday, than they are to tell the story of how Christ has saved their lives. We will talk about everything, encourage people to go to a restaurant, to a sporting event, or to a movie or a play before we will invite them to come into this place where they can know the eternal savior.
In our time, there are people who hunger and thirst for someone or something to believe in that is larger than themselves — someone or something that will bring clarity, meaning and hope to their lives. You and I, because we know the story; you and I, because we have claimed Christ and seek to let Christ claim us, can be like Eli or Philip, helping someone else to hear and to understand, bringing someone else who is yet skeptical to hear and to know the truth. You and I can be like Samuel or Nathaniel, hearing the quiet word of God spoken in the dark of the night and not understanding, hearing the excited report of our brothers and sisters in Christ, and yet, being skeptical about the "report."
Each of the people we heard about this morning are as contemporary as any of us. Their experiences of God's presence in their lives occur in our lives, too. As you think of them, Samuel and Eli, Philip and Nathaniel, Paul and that whole congregation in Corinth, as you look in those faces, you see your own in that same group in one of those places, in one of those other faces, all of them striving to know Christ and to make him known.
It seems to be a truism that it is easier to speak of almost anything, than to speak of the meaning of Jesus Christ in our lives. For whatever reason, Episcopalians seem to have a very difficult time with that. But, if it's done with grace and sensitivity, is it's done with enthusiasm for a friend, then we, too, can be effective witnesses. We, too, can bring others to know Christ as we have known him. Perhaps, just perhaps, we will find the task of witnessing for Christ a little bit easier, perhaps a lot easier, if we give up trying to get people to choose Jesus. We will find it a little easier if we give up trying to get people to choose Jesus, and then, like Eli, help those same people to understand finally that Jesus has already chosen them. It is his choice and he will choose them daily and bid them to come in, just as we have come in.
AMEN
The Rev. Dr. Robert Certain
rgcertain@stmargarets.org
16 January 2000