“Trembling but Obedient”

Jeremiah 1:4-10

 

N. T. Wright (commenting on the life and ministry of Jesus): In every gospel reading, not least [today’s reading from Luke], we see another facet of his own prophetic call, humbly obedient to God’s will, sternly opposed to the rulers of this age, gently building and planting new life, new hope.  The way to discover contemporary vocation is to stand in [Christ’s] presence, trembling but obedient.

[prayer]

In the Twentieth Chapter of the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah, Jeremiah utters these words: “If I say, ‘I will not mention him [The Lord], or speak any more in his name’, then within me there is something burning like a fire shut up in my bones; I am weary of holding it in.”  Jeremiah had reached one of those points in his prophetic mission where he was tired of being heckled and abused by the very people to whom he has been called by God to preach.  He didn’t want to do it anymore.  He’d had it.  He had come to believe that God’s call to him was something akin to seduction or rape, something he’d been tricked or forced into doing against his will.

And yet he could not quit doing it.  He couldn’t stop proclaiming God’s Word.  God’s message to Judah burned in his bones and his belly.  It could not be held in.  It had to be proclaimed. 

Jeremiah never wanted to be a prophet in the first place.  That was not the future he envisioned for himself.  He didn’t want the hassles that came with speaking God’s Truth to people who mostly didn’t want to hear it.  Yet some time around his eighteenth birthday God called him. 

And that call wasn’t some last minute, capricious act on the part of God.  It was something that had been in God’s plans for a long, long time – since before Jeremiah had been born or even conceived. 

How did Jeremiah respond?  Pretty much like any eighteen year-old would: “I can’t do this!  I’m too young and inexperienced.  I’ve had no training.  I’ve acquired no skills for the task at hand.”  To which the Lord God responded in verse seven from The Message, “Don’t say, ‘I’m only a boy’.  I’ll tell you where to go and you’ll go there.  I’ll tell you what to say and you’ll say it.  Don’t be afraid of a soul.  I’ll be right there looking after you.”  And then, as a way of closing the deal, The Lord reached out and touched Jeremiah’s mouth, literally putting his words into his mouth – words that would burn within him for the rest of his life!

Was it a smooth ride?  No.  Jeremiah would spend his entire ministry fussing and feuding with, and complaining to God.  There were to come days when Jeremiah not only wished that he’d never been called, but wished that he’d never even been born.  He wasn’t God’s happiest camper.  He was however one of God’s most faithful and obedient servants.  He didn’t want to preach.  He didn’t like to preach.  He didn’t really care for all the abuse and hardship that came with preaching.  But when push came to shove he was obedient; he went where God sent him and said what God told him to say.

Some of God’s greatest Old Testament prophets resisted God’s call.  Moses thought that he couldn’t speak well enough.  Isaiah believed himself not to be pure enough.  Jonah was too stubbornly self-righteous to proclaim God’s word of grace to people he hated. 

What did God do?  He provided Moses with an eloquent brother who would speak for him.  He symbolically burned any existing impurities out of Isaiah's mouth.  He saw to it that Jonah had an up close and personal encounter with a whale.  Each of them initially resisted God’s call.  All of them eventually answered it. 

In this morning’s Gospel lesson Jesus caused some consternation on the part of the religious leaders of the day by breaking some silly rules that had nothing to do with God’s original purpose in proclaiming the Sabbath as a day of rest and worship.  Did he pay a price for breaking those rules?  Indeed he did.  Did that stop him?  No, it didn’t.  God’s will came first even when he knew that doing that will would lead him to a cross.  God called.  He answered. 

A story that I hope isn’t too personal.  Along about my sophomore year in college, when I was nineteen years old, I started sensing the first stirrings of God’s call to ordained ministry in the Presbyterian Church.  I resisted.  O how I resisted!  I had no use for this preacher business.  My life plans were pretty much set, and going to seminary was not included in them.  I did not want to be a minister.

Be that as it may, the sense of call persisted, as did my resistance to it.  I finished college and started teaching.  That blew up in my face.  I went back to retailing, to doing what I thought I wanted to do for the rest of my life.  But I wasn’t happy as I thought I would be.  That ministry thing just would not leave me alone!

So one night I decided to show God just how unfit for ministry.  I went out and got drunk.  In the wee hours of the morning, after my bed stopped spinning, I blurted out into the darkness, “See, God, I’m not who you want for this ministry thing.”  I did not hear an actual voice, but in my head I heard God saying as clear as day, “You wanna bet.” 

I wish that I could tell you that I lived happily ever after.  Can’t do it.  I went to seminary.  I mostly enjoyed it, but over the Christmas break of my first year I seriously contemplated quitting.  My degree in Marketing Education hadn’t quite prepared me for the complexity of theological thought.

Bedeviled by my doubts and insecurities I returned to seminary.  In February of that year I was introduced to the Old Testament by Dr. James Mays.  Ta-da!  The light came on.  I fell in love with that stuff.  The rest of the year went okay.  I had a great summer of fieldwork following it.  I knew that I was doing what I was supposed to be doing.

I graduated.  I accepted my first call.  I was ordained.  Still there was no happily ever after.  There lurked within me a spiritual and emotional immaturity rebellious that caused me to do and say some really stupid things.  Those things eventually brought me into conflict with some elders.  That and my ongoing inner conflict with my calling led me to try to walk away from ministry.  My basic message to God was, “I’m outa here!  See, I tried to tell you that I didn’t belong in ministry.  Whatdaya have to say about that?”

Well, God didn’t say anything.  He simply let me deal with the emptiness that came into my life.  In time I realized that I could not not be a minister.  Some of Jeremiah’s fire burned in my bones.  I knew where I belonged.  More than that I knew that being there required a level of spiritual and emotional maturity that I did not possess.  So I went back to preaching, and in time, grew up.  Meeting Sandy didn’t hurt.  It took all of that for me to finally believe God’s, “You wanna bet!”

We all resist God’s call.  We all have our excuses.  We all deal with an ongoing inner struggle between faithfulness and rebellion.  But through the saving faith made available to us in our crucified and risen Lord and the power of God’s Holy Spirit we can reach that place where we’re ready to surrender to God - to go where he wants us to go, do what he wants us to do, and say what he wants us to say. 

We’re not all called to the office of Minister of Word and Sacrament.  But each and every baptized and confirmed Christian is called to serve God in some capacity.  Each and every congregation of God’s people is called to proclaim the Good News about Jesus Christ by word, deed, and attitude.  And in almost every case obediently answering that call will require us to step out of our individual and congregational comfort zones.

Do we have excuses for not doing so?  Well, we think we do.  “I’m too young or I’m too old.  I’m too busy or I’m too tired.  I’m not ready or fit to fill a church office.  I can’t do this or I can’t do that.  Yada yada yada!”  Those are just a few of our individual responses to God’s call.  But what about congregations?  What are their excuses?  “We’re too small.  We don’t have enough money.  We’re afraid of upsetting this, that, or the other member.  The people in our church’s neighborhood don’t look or sound or dress like we do.”  And the most often heard congregational excuse?  “We’ve never done it that way before.”  Thus we hide our fear of change by making up insincere excuses or clinging idolatrously to tradition.   Ultimately it all boils down to being too scared to make the changes God is calling us to make in our individual lives or the life of a congregation.

God knows we’re scared, but he never calls us to do what he doesn’t empower or equip us to do.  As he once told Jeremiah he still tells us, “Do not be afraid… for I am with you to deliver you.”  And our only faithful response is to stand before God, usually trembling in fear, and joining with Isaiah in obediently saying to God, “Here I am; send me.”  Amen.