February 10 Sermon

February 10, 2019

1 Corinthians 15:1-11; Isaiah 6: 1-8 (9-13); Luke 5:1-11

A common theme runs through today’s readings. And that is the theme of receiving a call from God. In each reading, the call is, if anything, remarkable—vivid, even terrifying.

In the first reading, in the Book of Isaiah, a great vision overwhelms the prophet—in the temple in Jerusalem. Suddenly appearing on his throne, God towers over everything else—accompanied by those celestial, 6-winged creatures known as seraphs. The doors shake; smoke fills up the Holy of Holies. In the sheer magnitude of it all, Isaiah expects to be immediately consumed right there on the spot, for he is nothing but a mere mortal and a sinful one at that: “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips..!” But rather than die, he is, in fact, made clean, and immediately accepts God’s call to speak to the people of Israel.

In the Gospel, Simon Peter—and his brother Andrew, and their partners James and John—they witness not a vision, but a miracle, which has the very same effect. Like Isaiah—the-soon-to-be disciple knows he is in the presence of God. Like Isaiah, he suffers an overpowering sense of smallness, of total inadequacy: “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” But again, like Isaiah, a few moments later Peter answers the call to proclaim God’s word.

Last, we have from Paul an account of his own calling. As most of us are aware, it comes to be known as his “Road-to-Damascus” experience. As with Isaiah, it’s a vision. And, as with Peter, it’s Jesus who speaks to him: “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?”—because he’s been rounding up and imprisoning as many followers of Jesus as he can. Even so, Paul doesn’t recognize the voice. He has to ask, “Who are you, Lord?” Then he’s struck blind, healed only three days later by, of all people, a believer in Christ. Paul is baptized, filled with the Spirit, and becomes a Christian, which also means becoming an evangelist.

But we don’t see any of this account 1 Corinthians and for good reason: It isn’t in there. It’s in the Book of Acts, and not just once but three times. Can you believe that? Three times?

But again, in today’s second lesson we don’t see any of that. Instead, Paul walks us through the hall-of-fame, so to speak, of those who have earlier witnessed the resurrected Christ—beginning with Peter and the other disciples, the apostle James, and hundreds of other spiritual sisters and brothers. Now he doesn’t mention the women at the empty tomb. Why, we don’t know. Maybe no one ever told him that part of the story. 

Regardless, he puts himself at the very end of the list:

Last of all,…he appeared also to me. For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am…

That’s quite an admission on Paul’s part—because, in his letters as a whole, he certainly doesn’t 

portray himself as a particularly humble person. Even in the very next verse of today’s passage, he says: “[Now] I [have] worked harder than any of [the others—although, well, it’s not actually me], but the grace of God that is with me.” In whatever way we see it—like Isaiah and Peter—Paul himself doesn’t always feel qualified when it comes to spreading the Good News.

So what about you and me? If any of you has a compelling story of conversion, you haven’t told me about it. And if I myself had had such an experience, by now I probably would have mentioned it to you.

Even if we wanted to, how in the world could we ever come close to experiencing something like Isaiah or Peter or Paul did? Or a number of women in the New Testament? The thing is this:

It’s something that happens to us, not by us. Now we might be able to place ourselves into a set of circumstances that might move us toward some kind of conversion. But in the end, we can’t make God give us a vivid, unambiguous call, from which we can then live out our lives.

Where that leaves the vast majority of us is to turn to that first spiritually transforming event in our lives—where the Holy Spirit makes itself known. I’m talking about baptism, which, for most of us comes about not because of ourselves, but because of our parents—or other guardians, as the case may be. They speak on our behalf. And so the Word is spoken and the water is poured. Hands are laid upon the head and a blessing is given. Oil is applied to the forehead in the shape of a cross.

One thing remains: A candle is lighted—accompanied by these words from Jesus: “Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.”

Absent any other conversion experience in our lives, that pretty much is it.

Maybe part of what limits us in regard to our call in life is having too narrow a view or understanding of conversion. What I mean is this: Maybe most of us are much likelier to experience, to undergo in life is a series of small conversions. Have you ever thought of that possibility? 

When Deborah and I became engaged and she was attending college, I would drive up some weekends to see her. On Sunday mornings we attended a church near the campus, which was led by a wise and kind minister. He had a name that today would be offensive to a number of people. It was Robert E. Lee. But he always went by the nickname Bob.

One other thing I remembered about him had something to do with his military service as a young man. Unable to recall just what it was, I googled his name last week and found a treasure trove of information. What happened was he died nearly three years ago. And so his obituary immediately popped up on the computer screen. That’s when I learned much more about him.

He seems like a good example of someone who underwent a series of small conversions.

The first one happened while he was still a child: “At the age of 12, he accepted Christ at a 

community revival,” which tells me he probably did not grow up in a Lutheran church! The article continues: “Although [unknown] at the time, this was the first key [event for him], one of [several] to follow of God’s hands in his life.”

Another one was serving as a Marine sergeant in World War II—in the Pacific theater—after which he received a Purple Heart for wounds sustained in combat. After marriage and college, he “was baptized and confirmed in the Lutheran [church],” which I’m guessing his wife had something to do with. (Evangelism by marriage.) Almost as soon as he began teaching and coaching high school—as the obituary puts it—came “the most dramatic turning point and one that completely changed the direction of his life…contracting polio…” Now, it doesn’t say what happened during that time, but apparently he was able to overcome it, because Deborah and I never noticed that he had any physical limitations.

At some point later he left teaching and coaching to attend seminary and become a pastor. Apparently, facing a serious illness had had something to do with his change in vocation.

Although these experiences—while not anywhere on the order as those of Isaiah, Peter, or Paul—still, they may seem more dramatic than our own. But I don’t think they’re necessarily that more special.

What may make the greatest difference is how we interpret various events in our lives—how we may see in them the “hand of God.” Maybe after some struggling, some wrestling about that, deciding then what to do with it. It may not be related at all to changing vocations—although it might. It might have more to do with something else—something that’s not “flashy” or eye-catching. Maybe as simple as vastly improving the quality of a personal relationship. Or helping others in a brand new kind of way.

The important thing is somehow conveying, somehow expressing God’s love in what we say and do. As in this verse from the African American spiritual, “There Is a Balm in Gilead:”

If you cannot preach like Peter, if you cannot pray like Paul,

you can tell the love of Jesus and say, “He died for all.”

It’s often been said that John 3:16 is the gospel in a nutshell: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Begotten Son, that all who believe in him should not perish, but have eternal life.”

Well, in today’s Second Lesson we have in “capsule” form another version. It’s not quite as short, but close to it: “…Christ died for our sins…and…was buried, and…he was raised on the third day…so we proclaim and so you have come to believe.”

Sharing such words with others—as we are helping them—if we do simply that and little else, we are obeying God’s call to share the good news.