Second Sunday after Christmas
January 4, 2009
Luke 2:41-52
I love this story from Luke about Jesus being left behind and then discovered by his parents in the temple. One of the reasons I like it is because it reinforces for me the whole great theological concept of Jesus’ humanity. I mean if you want to really sample the complexities of being human, there is probably no better place to look than in the life of a twelve year old.
Twelve can be a tough age, on parents and kids alike. Listen to Jesus in the story today. “Jesus, where have you been? Your father and I have been sick with worry.” “Where did you think I’d be?” In two thousand years, not much has changed. Twelve is an age where we are all pulled in two directions. At twelve we kind of feel the call to remain our parents’ children, to be the little people they hope we are, and, we begin to hear the call of our own future. We begin to separate in little ways in order to better hear that call. Sometimes the chagrin of parents who wonder why we aren’t acting the way we did last year, or last week sounds so regressive. Don’t they know there is a big world and a big life out there calling? Don’t they get it? “Jesus, where the heck have you been?” “Right where I’m supposed to be of course. Duh.”
The gift for us in this story is very human, non remarkable exchange we hear between Jesus and his folks, but Luke’s story of the twelve year old Jesus is a masterfully crafted tale that reveals much more than just Jesus’ humanity. Luke connects Jesus with the great prophet and priest Samuel who as a boy about Jesus’ age heard his call from God while he was serving in the temple. Samuel’s mother, Hannah, had been without child and had prayed in the temple for a miracle. Eli, the priest in the temple had promised her that God would act on her request. When Samuel was born she sang a song of thanksgiving, much like Mary’s song, and she took the child to the temple to offer him to God, much like Mary and Joseph did when they presented Jesus to be named and circumcised. Luke wants us to understand that Jesus is a part of the ancient tradition and that he is the beginning of something new. Samuel, you may remember, was about Jesus’ age when he heard a voice calling in the night, “Samuel.” The boy got up and ran to Eli the priest and asked, “did you call me?” Eli said no and the boy went back to sleep but soon heard the call again. After a few more trips to the priests room, Eli figured out what was going on and instructed Samuel to stay in his bed when he heard the call and just answer saying, “here I am Lord.” Samuel answered that call and it was the beginning of a new era in the life of Israel. It was Samuel who anointed the great king David. It was Samuel who worked out with God the establishment of a kingdom. These are the sorts of images Luke wants us to call to mind as we hear Jesus at twelve beginning to find his future life--beginning to come into his own in the temple. This is where Jesus’ call is being worked out. Samuel heard God calling. Jesus hears God calling. That is the formula.
I hear from several people each year who are wrestling with the perception of a call from God. I serve on the Committee on priesthood for the diocese, so I end up interviewing people who think they being called to ordination. Actually, I now serve on two different bodies in the diocese that deal with the notion of call. Until just last year, there was only one group and it was called the Commission on Ministry. The Commission on ministry was the group that interviewed “aspirants” as they are called in the ordination process. The way the process worked was when someone began to think God was calling them to the priesthood they would go to their parish priest and begin a discernment process. If the priest thought they sounded sincere, they applied to the Commission and a vestry committee was formed in the parish to spend several months working with the candidate to try to decide if they should become a priest. If they got the green light in the parish, they came to see the Commission on ministry. In that format, ministry equaled priesthood. Someone finally figured out that there was a problem with that format. We say all the time--the Prayer Book says clearly--that there are many kinds of ministry, and that priesthood is only one kind of ministry. After a few years of careful thought and planning, the Committee on priesthood was formed to shepherd people through the priestly ordination process and the Commission on Ministry began to look at how it might help people discern calls to other sorts of ministries. Now, if someone comes to my office and says, I think God is calling me to be a priest, I will send them off to a weekend retreat to work along with others at exploring the whole idea of call. Then that person will form a group at St. Aidan’s in which all the members of the group discuss their various calls to whatever vocation may be theirs. Call is discerned in an environment where everyone’s call is important and everyone’s call requires listening and community to support it. That group doesn’t make a recommendation about whether or not someone should seek ordination. The individual decides after that time of discernment whether or not to continue on that path. The new format is a huge step for the diocese, and it holds great promise for the ministry of every person in this diocese. As discernment groups form in parishes, we will come to understand more fully that we are all called by God to our own particular ministries and we will learn to listen for that call and to support and uphold each other as we try to respond faithfully. Priesthood is one thing call is another. Somehow I ended up on the priesthood committee and the Commission on Ministry, and it is the Commission, with its expanded role in supporting all ministry that I find most exciting.
I said a minute ago that it was the very human, non-remarkableness of today’s gospel story that had something to offer us. A cheeky, twelve-year old kid, full of himself and attuned to the voice calling him into his future is a link for us. Luke clearly makes Jesus in this human story a bridge between plain people like you and me and the great and faithful leaders among God’s people. Jesus is like Samuel. Open, listening, faithful, finding his life as he learns to serve his God. And, Jesus is like you and me. Human to the core. Just plain folks. And if Jesus is like us, if Jesus is one of us, then maybe we too could learn to hear God calling us into our futures, our ministries. Samuel was a giant in the old stories. Jesus is like him. Jesus is like us. Do you sometimes wonder what God is inviting--where God might lead you? Do you sometimes get an inkling that your gifts, your passions, even your troubles might say something about the ministry to which you are called? Part of being like Jesus, related as we are by species, by blood, is asking such questions.
And if the questions lead you to a place where you feel you are being asked to make a commitment- to offer yourself in some new way or set out on an unfamiliar path-maybe it will help you to know what Samuel’s mother said when she presented him to God. She took him to the temple, gave him to Eli and said, “the Lord granted my petition so I have lent this child to the Lord.” How wonderfully human; a guarded response to the life changing call of God. It sounds a little tentative, but still it was enough. In this morning’s story with no miracles or angels or signs from heaven there is plenty of room for plain human folk like us to stand with Jesus our brother and listen for our call. JB