Epiphany 4A
February 2
Micah 6:1-8
Grace to you and peace from God our
Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
I was a
young and idealistic recent college graduate. I had in my hand a Bachelor’s
degree in music and religion, having graduated magna cum laude. I had completed
a thesis on the topic of costly grace, exploring what it means in Lutheran
theology to love and serve your neighbor. I had wept over Luther’s powerful
words, and had pored over the poignant words of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I had
grappled so deeply with their insights that I couldn’t see myself doing
anything after college but being God’s hands in the world. And so I applied to
several volunteer organizations. I finally decided on the Young Adults in
Global Mission program, a one-year mission abroad for adults ages 19-29. After
interviewing with several country coordinators, I was assigned to spend my year
of global mission in a village in Slovakia.
I was
thrilled. The program suited me and my interests very well. The description I
received for my site included working with youth, and building a youth group in
the village, and working with the choir, and developing programing. All of the
things I loved and would be so good at with my particular skill set. I couldn’t
wait to begin.
The week
after I arrived with the five other Americans spending the year in Slovakia,
Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast. We six Americans huddled around a
computer, watching footage and reading reports of what was happening at home.
We were devastated, and riddled with guilt. Here we thought we were going to
serve some people in need, but instead we were watching the struggles of people
in our own country. Why weren’t we there
helping them? My conviction about
being in Slovakia to serve the Lord started to wane.
A few weeks
later, I arrived in my village. I met the pastor, a Slovak and German speaking
Elvis Presley look-alike. Between my little bit of German knowledge, and even
less Slovak, Pastor Miroslav told me what I would be doing that year for them:
I would be teaching English to middle schoolers.
What? Are
you sure? I wasn’t prepared for teaching English in any way – I had no
experience, no education classes, no materials, not really any desire. There
was, after all, already an English teacher in the village. I would merely be
following her around and correcting the students’ grammar and pronunciation.
This wasn’t quite what I had in mind for my year of global mission. And
especially once I saw how apathetic the kids were about learning English at
all, any desire I might have had disappeared. In my mind, I had no purpose
there at all – I would just be doing something they already had someone to do,
that I wasn’t even any good at, that no one seemed to really want me doing
anyway. I was good at so many things. I had so many skills and talents – why
weren’t they utilizing those, so I could feel good about my contribution?
All of that
wisdom and knowledge I had acquired through my years of schooling suddenly
meant nothing. All of those talents and skills I was so proud of didn’t really
help at all with the work God had called me to in that village. I was
desperately lonely. Even though I had many things in my life there that were
worthy of deep and heartfelt gratitude, I felt emptied of many of the things
that I loved about life. All year long, I doubted why I was even there, what
God could possibly have had in mind sending me to this place.
Hindsight,
as they say, is 20/20. It wasn’t until well through the year and after I
returned that I began to make some sense of that time. I had gone to Slovakia
with a list of skills and gifts I thought I should use. Notice the pronouns
there – I thought that I should use them. I had an agenda. I had a
vision of what that year was going to be like. It was not until I was stripped
of the comfort and familiarity of that, that I saw what God needed me to see: it
was there, in Slovakia, you see, out of my comfort zone, that I discerned a
call to be a pastor.
In our
reading today from Micah, God is calling out Israel for their infidelity and
injustice. Israel responds, “With what shall I come before the Lord?” What can
I do to make it up to you, God? They proceed to list several outrageous
offerings – thousands of rams, rivers full of oil, even a firstborn child,
presumably acting under the assumption that these physical gifts would make God
happy.
But God will
not have any of it: “What do I require of you but these three things,” God
says. “Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.” I get the
first two. Doing justice and loving kindness – that is what I was trying to do
when I volunteered to spend the year in a Slovak village. That is what we as
the church are always striving to do – to be God’s hands and God’s love in the
world. But walking humbly with our God… that is something altogether different.
What does
that look like, to walk humbly with our God? Apparently it does not look like
me bringing my fancy degree and skill set to Slovakia to offer what I think
Slovakia needs. It does not look like a thousand rams or rivers full of oil. I
suspect it doesn’t look like a lot of things we try to do on our own. So what does it look like?
Some of you
were able to attend Stephen Bouman’s workshop a couple of weeks ago in which he
talked about the three great listenings: listening to God, listening to each
other, and listening to the world. He talks about the kitchen table as the
place where values are passed on, where the faith is learned. He told stories
about what he learned at his own kitchen table, and encouraged us to share our
own kitchen table stories. And then he suggested a model of mission in which we
go to the kitchen tables of others, bringing no agenda, in fact bringing
nothing at all but ears to hear and eyes to see what that other person has to
offer. As he described this scenario, I felt exhilarated – but also terribly
vulnerable in the same way I had felt vulnerable when I discovered that nothing
about my time in Slovakia would be as I had envisioned it. It takes a lot of
courage to go into something with no expectation or preparation, to leave
behind the idea that we must do something, and instead simply to be open to
what God might do or say to us in that situation.
It seems to
me that this is getting a lot closer
to what it means to “walk humbly with your God.” To enter into prayer, yes, but
into everything we do simply ready to receive what is offered. To empty
ourselves of what we think we should offer, and instead to hear
what God has to offer. It is counter-cultural. It is scary. But putting aside
the possibility of contributing something important or fixing something, and
instead simply being open to receive – is this not what grace is like, the very
grace on which our faith is built? For when we are able to put aside our
frantic and overly extravagant offerings, and stop talking for just a moment
and instead listen and hear, we will discover what God is giving us. We will find
the hand of God reaching out to us to offer the body and blood of Christ, and we
will hear those words, “given for you.” Given for you, not because of your
credentials or your talents, but simply because God is God, and grace and unmerited
love are what God is about.
Let us pray…
Gracious God, we are always so eager to
do, do, do. Help us remember also to listen to your will and your promise of
grace, so that we might not only know how to do justice and love kindness, but
also to walk humbly with you. In the name of the Father and the Son and the
Holy Spirit. Amen.
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