"A Church Full of Samuels"
January 15, 2006: 2nd Sunday after Epiphany, Year B
The Rev. John MacIver Gage, pastor
United Church on the Green, UCC: New Haven, CT
www.newlights.org

Scripture:
1 Samuel 3:1-11, 19-20
Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread. At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room; the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. Then the Lord called, "Samuel! Samuel!" and Samuel said, "Here I am!" and ran to Eli, and said, "Here I am, for you called me." But Eli said, "I did not call; lie down again." So Samuel went and lay down. The Lord called again, "Samuel!" Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, "Here I am, for you called me." But Eli said, "I did not call, my son; lie down again." Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. The Lord called Samuel again, a third time. And Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, "Here I am, for you called me." Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, "Go, lie down; and if God calls you, you shall say, 'Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.'" So Samuel went and lay down in his place. Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, "Samuel! Samuel!" And Samuel said, "Speak, for your servant is listening." Then the Lord said to Samuel, "See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle... As Samuel grew up, the Lord was with him and let none of [God's] words fall to the ground. And all Israel from Dan to Beer-sheba knew that Samuel was a trustworthy prophet of the Lord.

Sermon:
If you don't think the Holy Spirit has a sense of humor, I offer up today's lectionary passage from 1 Samuel as evidence she does. How else could this particular bit of scripture have happened to me this morning? I mean, really? So last week we bid God's speed to Louise Higginbotham, our pastor here for nearly fourteen years, as she retired from active parish ministry in order to rest a bit and care for her husband, Bill. And this is my first Sunday as the solo pastor in this place. And all of this during the week that marks the sixth anniversary of my ordination and the beginning of my seventh year at United Church.

Given all this, it only stands to reason that I get served up Samuel for my sermonizing this morning, right? The story of a young man learning to discern God's call to ministry in the shadow of a much revered older leader of God's people... one who's soon to retire...? Oh, sure, like that's random. At this risk of over-personalizing and perhaps even blaspheming against the power of the Holy Spirit, I say to her: Oh hardee har har!

But of course, there is a careful balance to be struck when reading scripture, a balance between identification and abstraction. Go too far in one direction, and the Bible is reduced to a Rorschach test reflecting us and only us, every word forced to bow to our particular place and time. But go too far the other way, and it remains completely opaque, a black hole where meaning is swallowed up by the overwhelming gravity of history. Somewhere in between though, the Holy Spirit blazes a trail for us marked by both humility and daring. With her help, we learn that though the words of the Bible were not written about us, the Word of God to which they point is intended for us—and for all God's people in all the various circumstances of our lives—to help shape our life together in faith.

If that"s true, then I can read this passage about Samuel and have it come alive and be personal, without taking it personally, if that makes sense. It's not about me. It's not about you. But it's for me. It's for all of us. Really that's the first blessing we're asking for when we say, "May God add a blessing to this reading and our hearing together of God's holy word." With that in mind, let's take a closer look.

So Eli was a priest of God at the holy shrine of Shiloh in the old days, the very old days before David marched into Jerusalem and made it his capital, before Solomon built the first temple there. And Eli served God faithfully for many, many years there facilitating the relationship between God and God's people in prayer and sacrifice, in call and response, in dreams and visions. But times had changed and grown hard. "The word of the Lord was rare in those days, and visions were not widespread," we're told. Even the holy man's vision was growing dim as his milky eyesight. And he was tired. The verses just prior to these tell us why: Despite his best efforts, Eli's own sons were exploiting their position as gatekeepers at Shiloh to fill their coffers and their stomachs... and their beds. No wonder Eli was weary and took to lying in the shadows of his room a little longer each day.

But the lamp of God had not yet gone out. It may have been guttering low, but still it burned in the sanctuary, which is where young Samuel slept, curled on his mat beneath the lamp, beside the Ark of the Covenant. And Samuel himself was a child of promise. His mother, Hannah, had been unable to conceive until she poured out her heart in prayer before God in that very same sanctuary. Then, as part of God's mysterious plan, she did become pregnant and gave birth to a son, whom she named Samuel and whom she dedicated to the ministry of God in that place.

Samuel had heard the story all his life. His mother told him every chance she got how desperate she had been to bear a child, how often and how fervently she had prayed, and how God had answered her prayer in him. She would dandle him on her knee and tell him, over and over, that God had a purpose for his life and would do great things through him if only he would listen for God's call.

Well, that was all a mother's fond abstraction until that fateful night when, in the soft light of the lamp of God, the unlikely young man heard a voice calling his name clear as day: "Samuel, Samuel." Even then, though, it took several tries—and several stumbling, comic interchanges with Eli—before God got through to Samuel. Can you blame him? I mean, really, no matter how many times you may have heard the Bible stories, who really expects God to actually come calling?

But eventually old Eli heard the Word in the words Samuel kept reporting to him; in turn, he helped young Samuel learn how to listen with a more open heart. So once more Samuel went back into the sanctuary to put himself in God's way, and, lo and behold, there it was again, "Samuel, Samuel." Only this time Samuel was ready and said, "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening." And finding a receptive heart, God spoke again, and more: "Listen: I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle." And so God called Samuel, even Samuel, to act as midwife to a rebirth of faith among God's people.

Now was this passage written about us, or even with us in mind? Of course not. But is there a word for us here today? You betcha. Can anyone doubt that times have changed and grown hard? Everywhere we turn, we hear talk about God. The morning news, the evening paper, in stump speeches and social commentary—the air is full of words about God, but where is the Word from God, the living word that brings life? It seems rare, indeed. And the vision of the Church of Jesus Christ seems to grow increasingly short-sighted as so many focus on what God can do for them to help them "live their best life now," not what they can do for the wider world God made and which God loves.

And here we are, God's unlikely children, born into faith on a wing and prayer—children of doubt, children of abuse, children of the 60's and 70's, children of desperation. Us? Church?! Who'd've thought that we were headed for church? Not me, as I look back six years and more. Not many of you, I bet, as you think back over your life with all its twists and turns. So who can blame us if we don't recognize the voice of God right off the bat? We're not in the habit. Despite our presence here in—yes, this is a church—despite the Bible stories that wash over us week after week, God help us, we still do not expect God to come calling, particularly calling our names, which does make it harder to hear when God does.

But we are children of promise, too, like Samuel, brought to this place of sanctuary by forces beyond our control for reasons beyond our imagining—and gathered here by the Spirit of God for a holy purpose. You see, God is at work among us raising up a church full of Samuels. God is calling us, even us and our young church to help bring about a renewal of faith in today's world, a renewal of humility and daring. God is calling us to re-imagine a Christian faith that seeks to follow Jesus' example more closely by engaging the world not in glory but in justice, peace, and compassion, and always, always in grace. And God is calling us to extend to others like us and so many more unlike us God's own unlikely invitation in Christ to share and to serve.

That's the world-wide vision, but what does it mean for us here on the ground at United Church on the Green in our own time of transition and perhaps anxiety and confusion? Well, it goes double for us. Louise was our shepherd here for nearly fourteen years and now she's retired. And I—well, I am not Louise. But neither are we simply sheep, prone to stumble and stray and wander away. We are seekers after God, we are followers of Christ, we are Samuels in our own right, listening for the voice of the Holy Spirit calling us in the middle of the night, in the midst of this community.

In the coming months, as we live into Louise's retirement and look forward to my own departure, God is calling you, friends, to step up to the plate, and to serve. God is calling you to find new ways of making this church part of your life, and your life part of this church. Pastors come and go—we have and we will—but this is your church, shared with you in particular by the spirit of the living Christ. God is now calling you to take a greater role in the day to day life of your church, whether that's by serving as a member of a board or a committee or reading scripture or hosting coffee hour or giving a potluck or second-hour program or visiting someone who's ill. Or the most underrated calling in the church today: attending to worship faithfully Sunday by Sunday and binding up what we do as church with your prayers.

You may think you are too young in faith or too full of doubt or too wounded or in some other way too unlikely to serve. You may want to look to some other, older, for guidance. The future may seen altogether too frightening without it. But that voice you hear, that still small voice that fills even the shadowy places—that voice is calling you. Yes, you. Just because you've never imagined yourself being part of a church like that doesn't mean God hasn't.

Friends, God is about to do something in the world that will make the ears of anyone who hears of it tingle. God is already doing it! and God needs this congregation to be a part of that work. Who else can bring our brand of holy skepticism and our passion for justice—our humility, yes, and our daring? And in order to do that, this congregation needs you, too. We need a whole church full of Samuels in order to be the church God is calling us to be together. So speak, Lord, for your servants are listening. We will not let your Word of life fall to the ground.