Send Me!
Sermon
Why Don't You Send Somebody?
Sermons For Advent, Christmas, Epiphany
Certain events -- often cataclysmic ones --stand out in bold
relief in our memory. Those of you who are over 35 or so, think
of where you were or what you were doing when you heard the news
that President John Kennedy had been shot. You may not remember
the date -- it was November 22, 1963 -- but you will probably
remember other things about that day. Or if you are 60 or more
think of what you were doing when you learned that Pearl Harbor
had been attacked. Chances are some things about that day are
etched clearly in your memory. People who were in the region of
San Francisco on that fateful day in November, 1989, will always
remember that the ground shook and freeways collapsed and
buildings crumbled. Chances are that people on the eastern coast
of the United States will never forget the days at the end of
October, 1991, when the fiercest storm anyone could recall
battered the towns and harbors along the waterfront. Certainly
the residents of southern Florida will never forget Hurricane
Andrew, that laid waste to Dade County and cut a swath across the
state. Of course the events that stick in our memory don't need
to be tragic ones. They may be joyful ones. Landing on the moon!
The Berlin Wall coming down. The end of a war, and knowing that a
loved one is coming home. A wedding. The birth of a child. We all
mark our lives by key events of our history
and by the fortunes or struggles, the triumphs or tragedies that
we share together or in our families. Our lives are shaped to
some degree by those events.
The early life of the prophet Isaiah was shaped by the events
of his own time. Little wonder then that he dates his vision in
the Temple by the time when the great King Uzziah died. Uzziah
began his reign in 783. He became king when he was only six years
old, and he ruled for almost 50 years as a great and good king.
He ruled so long that the fortunes of the nation and the rule of
Uzziah almost seemed as one. He developed the nation's
agriculture. Throughout his reign there was prosperity in the
land. His leadership inspired his people. He raised a mighty army
and strengthened the walls of Jerusalem against attack from
without. Under his leadership the nation prevailed against the
Philistines and the Arabians. It was a good time for the country
and for the people. But the king became ill with leprosy, and his
death was charged with great emotion throughout the country.
Imagine the sorrow and the sudden uncertainty about the future
among the people, most of whom had never known another king.
Now, imagine an aristocratic young man named Isaiah who
admired that king, and may even have known him. The king's death
and the nation in mourning formed the background of the call of
God to Isaiah to do something special with his life. It was in
the temple -- the one built long before by King Solomon -- that
Isaiah envisioned "the Lord high and lifted up, and his train
filled the temple." He realized that he was in the very presence
of God, and confessed his unworthiness to be there. The sacrifice
was there burning upon the altar, and Isaiah's vision was that
one of the guardians of the throne of God touched his lips with
the fire as a sign of his purification. Then Isaiah heard the
Lord ask, "Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?" And perhaps to
his own amazement Isaiah found himself answering, "Here I am,
Lord. Send me."
What a wonderful story! That powerful vision had a profound
impact upon a young man who probably would otherwise have chosen
a much easier and conventional and less
controversial life. But the biblical story, the historical record
and our own times reveal that those who encounter the presence of
God in their own lives can never be the same. It is clear that
Isaiah believed himself called by God to be something very
special. He could never live the privileged and pampered life to
which he had been born. He was changed.
Change is not always easy to accommodate, either in ourselves
or by those around us. Several years ago there was a film called
The Subject Was Roses. It portrayed a young man who returned home
from the army only to discover that he was a different person
than the boy who had left three years before. He was mature and
independent -- his own man. And the difference between what he had
been and what he had become ignited an intense conflict in the
family. His parents didn't know how to respond to this young man.
Because he had changed, they had to change, too. The whole family
structure began to fall apart. And the son, realizing that he was
the focus of their pain, could not stay. He had to leave.
How we want people to stay the same. We don't reason that out,
of course, but somehow we assume it. Children grow up and become
independent. They do not want to be directed by their parents as
they were when they were younger. The child must eventually put
away being a child and become the self-directed adult, thinking
and acting in adult ways. That is the very thing for which good
parenting prepares a child, but the parents sometimes have
difficulty adjusting to that when it happens. A husband or wife
takes on new interests, grows into new ideas and attitudes, while
the other does not. Suddenly one or the other wakes up and says,
"Is this the same person I married?" Relationships feel the
strain, and unfortunately some marriages do not survive the
stress. We encounter friends of years ago, and while we remember
there was a time we shared together, we discover we no longer
have much in common. Have they changed, or have we? Change is not
always easy to accept. At least we seem to want it on our own
terms. But change happens, and sometimes in radical fashion.
Sometimes growth comes in great leaps.
The biblical record is rife with such changes initiated by the
insistent call of God in one's life. Moses was called from being
a shepherd in a foreign land to lead his people to freedom.
Zacchaeus, upon meeting Jesus, changed from being a cheat and
became an honest man. Saul, the persecutor of Christians, became
Paul the Apostle of Jesus. And the young Isaiah was changed from
the comfortable aristocrat to become the fiery prophet of God.
Certainly many of the disciples had radical changes wrought in
their lives upon meeting Jesus. Levi, who had become wealthy as a
tax collector, exchanged material comfort for the life of an
itinerant disciple. And two pairs of brothers who were fishermen
gave up catching fish to catch people. In fact the scripture for
today puts it this way, "They gave up everything and followed
him."
If we were able to ask Simon when that great change took place
in his life, or James or John, they might say, "It was when we
took that tremendous catch of fish. Remember? Never had we caught
so many at once. Our boats were about to sink with the weight of
them." Luke seems to credit Jesus with the miraculous catch, but
they all surely regarded it as a sign from God. Fear seized them
and they felt unworthy to be in Jesus' presence. Jesus told them
not to be afraid, but to follow him and henceforth to catch
people.
Was it easy for those about them? Perhaps not. It is never
pleasant to be left behind. There was uncertainty, and later on
conflict, and at the end death. Matthew's account tells of James
and John leaving rather precipitously with their father Zebedee
sitting there in the boat, probably amazed and bewildered. How
could they leave him without help? Who could replace them? How is
that for parental frustration with change? We know very little of
the effect upon wives and children and parents, but certainly
there must have been some who were skeptical of the whole idea,
if not outright angry. We can project that because those are the
very feelings people have today when some radical change occurs.
Most of us resist the changes that reshape those who are close to
us.
There is indeed a skepticism about change in people's lives.
Perhaps many of us view with some doubt the kind of jailhouse
conversions that seem to be ploys to get off a bit easier.
Undoubtedly that is true in some instances, but is our view so
jaundiced that we doubt that God can and does touch the lives of
people who have gotten into desperate circumstances? It is
possible that the shock of the realization of the depth to which
one's life has fallen may even be the key to open the human mind
and soul to the only chance left -- the chance that God offers.
Do you remember Watergate conspirator Chuck Colson? He went to
prison for his part in that political debacle. And while he was
there it was reported that he had experienced a religious
conversion, and that as a result his life was changed. A news
correspondent in Washington at the time reflected the cynicism of
many others when he said, "If Chuck Colson has been washed in the
blood of the Lamb, then he has 'ring around the collar.' "1 But
whatever one may think of his part in political shenanegans and
crimes, or the theological perspective he now represents,
whatever happened seems to be a permanent change. He has been
writing and speaking of the change Christ has wrought in his life
ever since that day. In the year of Watergate it happened, in the
shadow of events that shook a nation. A man found himself
uncomfortable in the presence of God and begged forgiveness.
"Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?" We who confess our
skepticism must remember that it happened to Isaiah, and it
happened to Paul. There were plenty who doubted the genuineness
of his conversion, too.
Life cannot remain on dead center and still be regarded as
life in the best sense. Life must be dynamic. It must move. It
can only go forward. We can never turn back the clock, or go back
to what we once were. To stand still is to die, or at least to
miss out on the life that God offers us. We all must grow, and to
grow is to outgrow the past and even the present and to embrace
the new. The opportunity comes to each one of us, in different
ways certainly. But we all are led forward
to be what God has created us to be. God can speak to and within
us, perhaps not with overwhelming visions, but certainly with a
larger vision than we have created for ourselves. We raise the
question, "Why me?" because we feel afraid or unworthy. Don't
forget Isaiah. And don't forget Simon either, called to
discipleship while caught in the midst of pulling fish into a
boat. They both felt unworthy and afraid. Don't be afraid. Jesus
said that too, remember? Don't be afraid. Answer the call. Open
up your life to the new thing God is about to do with your life.
God's will for us only happens with our cooperation.
Might God be calling you from too self-indulgent a lifestyle
to one of helpful concern for the plight of people less fortunate
than yourself? Might God be calling you from isolation from the
world to involvement in real life? Is God asking you to encourage
those who because of handicap or poverty struggle against
overwhelming odds? Do you hear a still small but insistent voice
saying, "Whom shall I send to teach little children and to guide
young lives?" Have you said no too many times to opportunities to
be used by God? Maybe it is time you began to say yes.
What is the call in your life? Is it to be more generous with
your time or money? Is it to hear the voices that challenge
comfortable attitudes and subtle prejudices? Are the channels of
communication open as you go about your daily routine, or as you
do your work? In other words, do you pray? Not in the sense of
asking, or forming prayers of words, but are you open and ready
for God to speak to you in the experiences and people around you?
Indeed are you open to the fact that this is the temple of God?
Even as we worship today we recognize God is present. We
confess our feelings of unworthiness, and perhaps even our fear
that God may ask something of us we are reluctant to do. It is
natural to wonder where our yes is going to lead us, but then
just how much do we trust God? In so many ways at this moment God
is calling each one of us.
Life does not progress without change. Expect it! Be open to
it. And welcome the change that God offers. Say it! "Here I am,
Lord! Send me!"
1-Excerpt from Good News, c published by Liturgical Publications,
Inc., 2875 S. James Drive, New Berlin, WI 53151. From a sermon
written by Rev. Frederick C. Edwards.
relief in our memory. Those of you who are over 35 or so, think
of where you were or what you were doing when you heard the news
that President John Kennedy had been shot. You may not remember
the date -- it was November 22, 1963 -- but you will probably
remember other things about that day. Or if you are 60 or more
think of what you were doing when you learned that Pearl Harbor
had been attacked. Chances are some things about that day are
etched clearly in your memory. People who were in the region of
San Francisco on that fateful day in November, 1989, will always
remember that the ground shook and freeways collapsed and
buildings crumbled. Chances are that people on the eastern coast
of the United States will never forget the days at the end of
October, 1991, when the fiercest storm anyone could recall
battered the towns and harbors along the waterfront. Certainly
the residents of southern Florida will never forget Hurricane
Andrew, that laid waste to Dade County and cut a swath across the
state. Of course the events that stick in our memory don't need
to be tragic ones. They may be joyful ones. Landing on the moon!
The Berlin Wall coming down. The end of a war, and knowing that a
loved one is coming home. A wedding. The birth of a child. We all
mark our lives by key events of our history
and by the fortunes or struggles, the triumphs or tragedies that
we share together or in our families. Our lives are shaped to
some degree by those events.
The early life of the prophet Isaiah was shaped by the events
of his own time. Little wonder then that he dates his vision in
the Temple by the time when the great King Uzziah died. Uzziah
began his reign in 783. He became king when he was only six years
old, and he ruled for almost 50 years as a great and good king.
He ruled so long that the fortunes of the nation and the rule of
Uzziah almost seemed as one. He developed the nation's
agriculture. Throughout his reign there was prosperity in the
land. His leadership inspired his people. He raised a mighty army
and strengthened the walls of Jerusalem against attack from
without. Under his leadership the nation prevailed against the
Philistines and the Arabians. It was a good time for the country
and for the people. But the king became ill with leprosy, and his
death was charged with great emotion throughout the country.
Imagine the sorrow and the sudden uncertainty about the future
among the people, most of whom had never known another king.
Now, imagine an aristocratic young man named Isaiah who
admired that king, and may even have known him. The king's death
and the nation in mourning formed the background of the call of
God to Isaiah to do something special with his life. It was in
the temple -- the one built long before by King Solomon -- that
Isaiah envisioned "the Lord high and lifted up, and his train
filled the temple." He realized that he was in the very presence
of God, and confessed his unworthiness to be there. The sacrifice
was there burning upon the altar, and Isaiah's vision was that
one of the guardians of the throne of God touched his lips with
the fire as a sign of his purification. Then Isaiah heard the
Lord ask, "Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?" And perhaps to
his own amazement Isaiah found himself answering, "Here I am,
Lord. Send me."
What a wonderful story! That powerful vision had a profound
impact upon a young man who probably would otherwise have chosen
a much easier and conventional and less
controversial life. But the biblical story, the historical record
and our own times reveal that those who encounter the presence of
God in their own lives can never be the same. It is clear that
Isaiah believed himself called by God to be something very
special. He could never live the privileged and pampered life to
which he had been born. He was changed.
Change is not always easy to accommodate, either in ourselves
or by those around us. Several years ago there was a film called
The Subject Was Roses. It portrayed a young man who returned home
from the army only to discover that he was a different person
than the boy who had left three years before. He was mature and
independent -- his own man. And the difference between what he had
been and what he had become ignited an intense conflict in the
family. His parents didn't know how to respond to this young man.
Because he had changed, they had to change, too. The whole family
structure began to fall apart. And the son, realizing that he was
the focus of their pain, could not stay. He had to leave.
How we want people to stay the same. We don't reason that out,
of course, but somehow we assume it. Children grow up and become
independent. They do not want to be directed by their parents as
they were when they were younger. The child must eventually put
away being a child and become the self-directed adult, thinking
and acting in adult ways. That is the very thing for which good
parenting prepares a child, but the parents sometimes have
difficulty adjusting to that when it happens. A husband or wife
takes on new interests, grows into new ideas and attitudes, while
the other does not. Suddenly one or the other wakes up and says,
"Is this the same person I married?" Relationships feel the
strain, and unfortunately some marriages do not survive the
stress. We encounter friends of years ago, and while we remember
there was a time we shared together, we discover we no longer
have much in common. Have they changed, or have we? Change is not
always easy to accept. At least we seem to want it on our own
terms. But change happens, and sometimes in radical fashion.
Sometimes growth comes in great leaps.
The biblical record is rife with such changes initiated by the
insistent call of God in one's life. Moses was called from being
a shepherd in a foreign land to lead his people to freedom.
Zacchaeus, upon meeting Jesus, changed from being a cheat and
became an honest man. Saul, the persecutor of Christians, became
Paul the Apostle of Jesus. And the young Isaiah was changed from
the comfortable aristocrat to become the fiery prophet of God.
Certainly many of the disciples had radical changes wrought in
their lives upon meeting Jesus. Levi, who had become wealthy as a
tax collector, exchanged material comfort for the life of an
itinerant disciple. And two pairs of brothers who were fishermen
gave up catching fish to catch people. In fact the scripture for
today puts it this way, "They gave up everything and followed
him."
If we were able to ask Simon when that great change took place
in his life, or James or John, they might say, "It was when we
took that tremendous catch of fish. Remember? Never had we caught
so many at once. Our boats were about to sink with the weight of
them." Luke seems to credit Jesus with the miraculous catch, but
they all surely regarded it as a sign from God. Fear seized them
and they felt unworthy to be in Jesus' presence. Jesus told them
not to be afraid, but to follow him and henceforth to catch
people.
Was it easy for those about them? Perhaps not. It is never
pleasant to be left behind. There was uncertainty, and later on
conflict, and at the end death. Matthew's account tells of James
and John leaving rather precipitously with their father Zebedee
sitting there in the boat, probably amazed and bewildered. How
could they leave him without help? Who could replace them? How is
that for parental frustration with change? We know very little of
the effect upon wives and children and parents, but certainly
there must have been some who were skeptical of the whole idea,
if not outright angry. We can project that because those are the
very feelings people have today when some radical change occurs.
Most of us resist the changes that reshape those who are close to
us.
There is indeed a skepticism about change in people's lives.
Perhaps many of us view with some doubt the kind of jailhouse
conversions that seem to be ploys to get off a bit easier.
Undoubtedly that is true in some instances, but is our view so
jaundiced that we doubt that God can and does touch the lives of
people who have gotten into desperate circumstances? It is
possible that the shock of the realization of the depth to which
one's life has fallen may even be the key to open the human mind
and soul to the only chance left -- the chance that God offers.
Do you remember Watergate conspirator Chuck Colson? He went to
prison for his part in that political debacle. And while he was
there it was reported that he had experienced a religious
conversion, and that as a result his life was changed. A news
correspondent in Washington at the time reflected the cynicism of
many others when he said, "If Chuck Colson has been washed in the
blood of the Lamb, then he has 'ring around the collar.' "1 But
whatever one may think of his part in political shenanegans and
crimes, or the theological perspective he now represents,
whatever happened seems to be a permanent change. He has been
writing and speaking of the change Christ has wrought in his life
ever since that day. In the year of Watergate it happened, in the
shadow of events that shook a nation. A man found himself
uncomfortable in the presence of God and begged forgiveness.
"Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?" We who confess our
skepticism must remember that it happened to Isaiah, and it
happened to Paul. There were plenty who doubted the genuineness
of his conversion, too.
Life cannot remain on dead center and still be regarded as
life in the best sense. Life must be dynamic. It must move. It
can only go forward. We can never turn back the clock, or go back
to what we once were. To stand still is to die, or at least to
miss out on the life that God offers us. We all must grow, and to
grow is to outgrow the past and even the present and to embrace
the new. The opportunity comes to each one of us, in different
ways certainly. But we all are led forward
to be what God has created us to be. God can speak to and within
us, perhaps not with overwhelming visions, but certainly with a
larger vision than we have created for ourselves. We raise the
question, "Why me?" because we feel afraid or unworthy. Don't
forget Isaiah. And don't forget Simon either, called to
discipleship while caught in the midst of pulling fish into a
boat. They both felt unworthy and afraid. Don't be afraid. Jesus
said that too, remember? Don't be afraid. Answer the call. Open
up your life to the new thing God is about to do with your life.
God's will for us only happens with our cooperation.
Might God be calling you from too self-indulgent a lifestyle
to one of helpful concern for the plight of people less fortunate
than yourself? Might God be calling you from isolation from the
world to involvement in real life? Is God asking you to encourage
those who because of handicap or poverty struggle against
overwhelming odds? Do you hear a still small but insistent voice
saying, "Whom shall I send to teach little children and to guide
young lives?" Have you said no too many times to opportunities to
be used by God? Maybe it is time you began to say yes.
What is the call in your life? Is it to be more generous with
your time or money? Is it to hear the voices that challenge
comfortable attitudes and subtle prejudices? Are the channels of
communication open as you go about your daily routine, or as you
do your work? In other words, do you pray? Not in the sense of
asking, or forming prayers of words, but are you open and ready
for God to speak to you in the experiences and people around you?
Indeed are you open to the fact that this is the temple of God?
Even as we worship today we recognize God is present. We
confess our feelings of unworthiness, and perhaps even our fear
that God may ask something of us we are reluctant to do. It is
natural to wonder where our yes is going to lead us, but then
just how much do we trust God? In so many ways at this moment God
is calling each one of us.
Life does not progress without change. Expect it! Be open to
it. And welcome the change that God offers. Say it! "Here I am,
Lord! Send me!"
1-Excerpt from Good News, c published by Liturgical Publications,
Inc., 2875 S. James Drive, New Berlin, WI 53151. From a sermon
written by Rev. Frederick C. Edwards.
