12B Behind the Scenes of Feeding of the 5000, John 6:1-21, July 28, 2024, Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Little Rock, Joanna Seibert

12B Behind the Scenes of Feeding of 5000 John 6:1-21 July 28,  2024, Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church,  Little Rock, Joanna Seibert 

Once, I took a six-month sabbatical from my medical practice at Children’s Hospital, planning an international meeting for my specialty. The meeting went well, but few people knew about the many behind-the-scenes events that made it happen. The conference was in Colorado Springs in early May. As the meeting began, I looked/ in disbelief /out a window and saw a heavy snowfall/ on the spring tulips. Quickly, overnight, we changed the planned golf and tennis events to winter sports. We taped the speakers after their session, as this was the first year of our specialty’s re-certification. I casually asked another pediatric radiologist, Marilyn Goske, to look in on the taping. Marilyn ended up never attending the meeting sessions, spending time with one speaker, never satisfied with his recording, who redid his talk five times. Perhaps the most innovative behind-the-scenes event was the spontaneous, impromptu marriage of two pediatric radiologists who lived continents apart. Our “yes, we can do it” meeting planner set up the ceremony in less than twenty-four hours. That wedding stands as the only nuptial event at this annual conference to date! ////

John’s telling of the feeding of the 5000 also lets us in at a rare/ behind-the-scenes look at how miracles take place.1 A large crowd follows Jesus as he heals the sick. Jesus goes up a mountain and sits down with his disciples. Unlike in the synoptic gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke), JESUS, /not the disciples,/ initiates a discussion about how to feed the now-hungry multitude. Phillip is practical and realistic, does the math, and sees no possible plan. Andrew, resourceful and observant, reports that a boy offers five barley loaves and two fish. However, Andrew, known for bringing people to Jesus, like this boy, his brother Peter, and later some Greeks,/ min/i/miz/es the possibility that this plan will work. Jesus then asks the disciples to have the crowd sit in a grassy area. He takes the barley loaves, the bread of the poor, and the fish, offers thanksgiving, and then Jesus distributes the food./ In the synoptic gospels, the disciples hand out the food. John reiterates that Jesus is always the giver, even if the gift is mediated through us./

 After the people are satisfied, Jesus asks the disciples to gather the fragments so “nothing may be lost.” They fill twelve baskets. The people are so astonished that they want to make Jesus king, but he withdraws up the mountain by himself. Jesus knows well that being king of the Jewish people is not his calling. He comes to teach us about a different kingdom.//

So much of this miracle, the movement of the Spirit, happens behind the scenes in this story/ and in our everyday lives. We witness Jesus’ resourcefulness bursting open our notion of limits and possibilities in our lives, work, callings, and relationships,/ possibilities we have missed in our shortsightedness. Here is a story of resourcefulness and generosity, using what we have, our small gift, that can have a significant impact. It is about having faith that God’s power is operational and overabundant. Andrew and Phillip especially remind us of the times we minimize how God works in our lives. Sometimes, our gifts are ready to be used, but we wait until we might be even more prepared. The enemy of good is perfection! That desire for perfection turns into a miserable, isolating, never-ending addiction. This story also reminds us how Jesus cares for our physical needs as much as our spiritual concerns. Jesus cares for the whole person. This is why the Benedictine rule of life is so vital for us to consider: time for prayer, study, eating, sleeping, working, and recreation.

Jesus doesn’t meet the minimum requirements for feeding the 5000. He lavishes food on them until they are satisfied, and then gathers the leftovers to take to those not there. There should be no waste. Jesus does not want anyone to be left out. The story is not just about abundance, but an overwhelming cup full,/ running over.//

Do you remember when Jesus asked Saint Mark’s, “How will you feed the hungry crowd?” There had been a capital campaign where money was left over. The Spirit moves the people of Saint Mark’s to remember the miracle of that abundance. They put that money into an outreach account, with part going to outreach and the other to Mustard Seed start-up grants for new outreach projects. We all know the story. Here comes another behind-the-scenes miracle. At about that time in 2016, another church on Mississippi cannot sustain its food pantry and asks if Saint Mark’s can support it. There are discussions similar to Phillip’s that Saint Mark’s might not take in enough money to support it, and Andrew’s that the proposed food pantry’s needs might exceed their allotted amount. Established ministries may have to share space. How will people needing food impact the day school? But again, somehow, there is another miracle. One person speaks up, saying, “Saint Mark’s needs this ministry. I hope we can find a way to work together to say yes.” The whole direction changes. The Holy Spirit takes over and turns a food pantry serving 500 people and 90 families monthly into a large-scale weekly food ministry to our neighbors that this May serves 3000 people and 650 families, with a continued yearly increase in people served. In the meantime, another behind-the-scenes miracle. Long-time members of Saint Mark’s, Gladys Beal, a VA operating nurse, and her husband leave money in their will to renovate the youth area and enlarge the food pantry to its present state. Need and abundance that keeps on growing. Thank you to so many who make the core value of Saint Mark’s identity a place of miracles and abundance.////

Lastly, in this feeding story, Jesus embraces a child’s extravagant generosity,/ reminiscent of a child offering to help their parents buy a new house by offering up their piggy bank. This takes us back to another behind-the-scene story at our Colorado Springs meeting. We engaged the nearby Air Force Academy chorus to sing at our banquet, but overnight, they go on maneuvers. Our meeting planner again responds, “We can make this work,” and books a local children’s chorus. I am distressed,/ thinking they will be amateurish. But they are amazing professional voices, leaving the audience in tears. As the children conclude the program, they go to each pediatric physician, sing directly to them, and give them a gentle hug and a thank you. The children bring to each person that source of abundant love we so often learn from the young. ///

 Today’s final adventure with the disciples finds them in a storm in the Sea of Galilee. Jesus walks on the water toward them. They are terrified and initially cannot recognize him. Jesus speaks one of his favorite lines, “It is I, do not be afraid,” and “The boat reaches land where they were going.” This is how Jesus works when we are in difficult situations. He walks in “behind the scenes.” Often, we do not recognize his presence. Finally, when we do, we come to a safe harbor. When we lose our capacity to wonder, we become skeptical about the extraordinary and miss the extraordinary within the ordinary. The miracle in this last story is that Christ’s presence in ordinary, fearful people can calm their anxieties and cause them to walk where they feared to walk before. I believe Christ was present in that person at Saint Mark’s,/ you know who you are, /who finally speaks up and says, “Saint Mark’s needs this ministry. I hope we can find a way to say yes.”/

May each of us say our prayers and stay connected to the Christ, the Holy Spirit within us. May we be that person at Saint Mark’s who has experienced abundance and love, who can speak truth at the right moment,/ often behind the scenes, and says, “Saint Mark’s needs this ministry. I hope we can find a way/ to reach out of ourselves/ and support/ the needs of  our community around us and in the world.”

 

1Jean Greenwood in Feasting on the Gospels ( Westminster John Knox Press 2015), pp.10-174.

Joanna Seibert

 

 

 

 

12-Step Eucharist, July 3, 2024, Interruptions, Mark 5:21-43, Healing Jarius Daughter and the Hemorrhaging Woman

12-step Eucharist July 3, 2024. Interruptions, Mark 5:21-43, Healing Jarius’ Daughter and the Hemorrhaging Woman

Here, we are gathered in community on the eve of our country’s birthday to discern if Jesus has a last-minute message for us and our country before we celebrate this nation’s founding with family and friends./

Jesus has just crossed the Sea of Galilee from the region of the Gerasenes, outside the bounds of Galilee, where he immediately met and healed a man possessed with demons. Tonight’s story takes place now on the western shores of the Sea of Galilee, which isn’t really a sea but a large freshwater lake some thirteen miles long and eight miles across, surrounded by high mountains and roughly in the shape of a heart, which fits well into this story. Now back home, Jesus is immediately met on the shoreline by a great crowd, including Jarius, a leader of the synagogue whose 12-year-old daughter is dying. On his way to Jarius’ house, a woman who has endured a GYN illness for 12 years touches his garment and is healed. Immediately, Jesus senses power has left him, stops, and asks, “Who touched me?”/

Are you getting any sense of a pattern here in Jesus’ life described by Mark?///

“While visiting the University of Notre Dame, Henri Nouwen met with an older professor, and while they strolled, the professor said with a certain melancholy, ‘You know, my whole life, I have been complaining that my work was constantly interrupted until I discovered that my interruptions were my work.’” 2

 Jesus’ life in Mark often seems to be a series of interruptions. Jesus stops and meets people exactly where they are in the present moment. This is how and where he heals.

I don’t know about you, but I have an agenda. But I am slowly, often painfully, learning that God continually meets me in the interruptions in my life that are not on my schedule. There is a call from a friend or family member when I think I am too busy to talk. This is a sure sign that I am in trouble, losing priority of what life is about if I cannot stop and chat. Interruptions are like a stop or yield sign to go off script and listen for a grace note. Interruptions remind us of how powerless we are. If we think we are in charge, the interruptions remind us that this is a myth. There is a power greater than ourselves, who constantly tries to lead us. Jesus daily teaches us this. He responds to what God presents to him in the present moment throughout his day.

To everyone here, especially those in recovery, “How do you think we got here?” Somehow, we received a message to interrupt what was going on in our life in addiction and reach out for something better. In recovery, it is called “a moment of clarity,” but it is truly a “God call,” interrupting what we have planned for the day./

My personal experience is that it is so easy to become EXPONENTIALLY ISOLATED, sealing ourselves off and refusing to respond to anything but what has become “our agenda, our lifestyle.” Our world, our God, becomes too small. We become the center of the universe, fossilized, like the Pharisees. As a result, we also develop a high hubris titer. A fallacy lurks in our ears that we will lose our thoughts or creativity if we stop and meet the interruption. But, when I return after an interruption, I almost always have fresh and new ideas about the next path, leading to becoming the person God created me to be.//   

Consider the interruptions in our lives. Always remember that, most probably, our lives and the lives of our friends here in recovery were saved by a God-Call that was an interruption.

1 Frederick Buechner in Secrets in the Dark (HarperOne, 2006).

2 Henri Nouwen in Reaching Out: The Three Movements of the Spiritual Life (Image Books, 1975), p. 52.

Joanna Seibert  joannaseibert.com

8B Healing of Jairus' Daughter, June 30, 2024, Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Mark 5:22-24, 35b-43.

8B Healing of Jairus’ Daughter June 30, 2024, St. Mark’s, Mark 5:22-24, 35b-43 

If Sunday lectionary readings followed our secular calendar, the story about Jesus, Jairus (Ji rus), and his daughter would have appeared two weeks ago for Father’s Day. Every parent who has had a severely ill child identifies with Jairus. This father risks his reputation, his social standing, his career to ask for alternative medicine for his twelve-year-old daughter. With absolute humility, this public figure,/ pillar of the community,/ frantically throws himself at Jesus’ feet, an itinerant vagabond prophet, uncredentialed rabbi,/ and begs for help for his dying child,/ a GIRL,/ one of the most marginalized members of that society. For the synagogue’s CEO, seeking help from the likes of Jesus must have caused a lot of talk. With the large crowd around Jesus, we would breathlessly follow Jairus home to see what happens next/ when a friend arrives, announcing it is all over; Jairus’ daughter is dead./ Jesus ignores this news, delivering one of his shortest sermons, “Do not fear, just believe.” Is Jesus telling Jarius, “Believe there is nothing you must be afraid of?”1

Later/ inside Jairus’ home, in an intimate moment with James, John, Peter, and the girl’s parents, Jesus takes the young child by the hand and calls her “little girl,” a name of fa/mili/al endearment. The moment makes such an impression on those present that this is only one of three times when Mark records Jesus’ exact words in Aramaic,

“Talitha cum (Tal/i/taa coom), little girl, arise.” The young Jewish girl gets up, walks about, astounding everyone. Jesus instructs the parents then to give her something to eat./ Medical historians hypothesize this suggests that Jairus’ daughter is in some hypoglycemic or low blood sugar state/ and that Jesus, the great physician, revives her from a near-death insulin-like coma. However, my image of this scene comes from contemporary art, where Jesus brings back a young maiden/ to life /who is really dead,/ really dead. 

The healing of Jairus’ only daughter (Luke) is about healing when there is no hope, a miracle outside of time and space,/ a mystery not rationally understood. I do believe miraculous recoveries occur. Every day, I see Jairus’s daughter healed. In 12-step groups, young people with alcohol and drug addiction, indeed dead to life, come alive./ At Children’s Hospital, I saw critically ill little ones survive diseases that five years ago, one year ago, would have killed them; children like Alexandria, Justin, Sam miraculously recover from deadly cancers, trauma, or lethal congenital heart diseases when all hope is lost.///

But/ what about all the beautiful children not healed of their painful illnesses? What about Laura, Tara, Christopher, and nine-month-old Hallie, who lived her whole life in the neonatal intensive care unit at Children’s Hospital?/ After her death, Hallie’s mom sent me a picture album titled “Will Hallie Go Home?” (repeat)///

 What about millions of people still trapped in addiction to alcohol and drugs, dying from their disease, raising havoc in lives around them? Did their loved ones not pray hard enough? Did their parents not have enough faith?

Barbara Brown Taylor2 writes the problem with miracles is that not everyone who prays for a miracle seems to get one, and some people receive them who never ask for them./

Religious people often spend time working out a formula for miracles: two parts prayer, three parts faith, one part good works. We study miracle stories to find out who did what right. We imitate their actions, hoping to become irresistible to God. But God rarely does anything the same way twice.

This miracle story is about a desperate father, Jairus, breaking every rule to save his daughter’s life. He surrenders himself to Jesus,/ and when all seems lost, he hears a voice tell him, “Do not fear; only believe.” Could this be the formula? If you have enough faith, things will turn out all right. It seems to work for Jairus. His daughter is saved. The kingdom breaks through in that bedroom, and all the angels sing “Alleluia.”/

But more times than we remember, we observe a different scene where parents do not experience the obvious miracle,/ and one of the meanest things religious people say is: “Your child was not healed because you lacked enough faith.” Sometimes, well-intentioned church people get mixed up about what causes miracles. They think miracles work like the strength tests at state fairs, those giant thermometers with a red bell at the top. We win the prize if we are strong enough to hit the thing with a sledgehammer and ring the bell.

In other words, people believe miracles are something we control. If our child is not recovering, it is our fault. We must try harder. Pump up our faith and ring the bell. Impress God with the power of our belief and claim our miracle. Only this is idolatry. This is one more example of our egocentric attempts to manipulate the world, thinking we are in charge of our lives instead of owning up to the truth that every single breath we take is a free gift from God. Concentrating on the strength of our own beliefs means practicing magic. Concentrating on the strength of God, turning our lives over to the care/ of our loving God, and trusting the RESULTS to God/ is practicing faith. This is the difference between believing that our lives are in our own hands/ and believing they are in God’s hands.//

“Do not fear, only believe.” Frederick Buechner3 defines believing as a journey rather than a position,/ and a relationship rather than a realization. (repeat) /This is what Jairus did, what Hallie’s mother did. They went on a journey with Jesus and stayed in relationship with him./

Consider what happened to Hallie’s mom’s prayers when Hallie died. Prayers change us in more ways than what we pray for. Miracles do occur, but they may not be what we expected. Hallie’s mom practiced seeing miracles by being alert and tuning in to the daily miracles in her everyday life with Hallie. Miracles are all around us if we only have eyes to see. Consider how God opens our hearts and minds when we pray for others. We step out of our egocentric world into a universe larger than ourselves.

 At our five o’clock service, I sit behind my harp and experience the power of a Spirit-filled synthesis of corporate and individual intercessory prayers. Men and women light candles as they offer prayers silently for themselves and others./ The light from many candles soon brings brighter light to the church’s darkened nave. The scene is an icon teaching us what happens when we pray. Prayers germinate from the darkened nave and are born to transform the world’s darkness/ into light. These silent prayers transported by candlelight change the appearance of the church, the pray-ers, and indeed, they change me. //

Remember Jesus also had a personal relationship with prayer, fear, faith, and miracles. Jesus prayed for a miracle on the night before he died. “For you, all things are possible.” He prayed to his Abba. “Remove this cup from me.” Only when he opens his eyes, the cup is still there. Does Jesus lack faith? I do not think so. The miracle is that he drinks the cup, believing in the power of God more than he believes in his own. This is the miracle when we turn our life and will over to God’s loving care.

 Similar/ly, Jairus turns the situation over to Jesus, follows Jesus home, and watches the holy man do his work. Perhaps the turning point in the story is not at the healing, but earlier, after Jesus gives his sermon, “Do not fear, only believe.” If Jairus does that, he will survive whatever happens next,/ even if Jesus had walked into his daughter’s room, as Jesus does for Hallie/ one stormy night/ when Jesus says prayers with her mother, gently closes Hallie’s eyes with his fingertips,/ and tenderly places Hallie in his own loving arms/ and takes Hallie home./// At this point, Jairus’ faith, Hallie’s mother’s faith, is the miracle, their willingness to believe that their daughters are STILL/ in God’s loving hands/ even if/ they have slipped/ out of theirs./

1Frederick Buechner in Secrets in the Dark (HarperSanfrancisco 1973), pp.272-278.

2Barbara Brown Taylor in “The Problem with Miracles,” Bread of Angels (Cowley 1997), pp. 136-140.

3Frederick Buechner in Whistling in the Dark, p. 21.

Barbara Brown Taylor in “One Step at a Time,” The Preaching Life (Cowley 1993), pp. 89-94.               

Joanna Seibert. joannaseibert.com

 

 

                            

12-Step Eucharist June 5, 2024 4B Mark 2:23-3:6 Plucking and Eating Grain on the Sabbath, Healing on the Sabbath, Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Little Rock

4B 12-step Eucharist June 5, 2024, Mark 2:23-3:6, Plucking and Eating Grain on the Sabbath, Healing on the Sabbath

This past Sunday's Gospel comes from a section of Mark's Gospel where Mark gathers a group of stories establishing Jesus' authority—authority to forgive sins (2:1-12), to call a tax collector and eat scandalously with sinners and tax collectors (2:13-17), to permit his disciples not to fast (2:18-22) and tonight, the authority to pluck grain and eat on the Sabbath (2:23-28) and heal on the Sabbath (3:1-6). 1

Many devout Jews found the Torah Sabbath laws too vague and confusing. By Jesus's time, there was a vast body of scribal interpretation that was codified into the Mishnah. 

Some Jewish religious leaders interpreted the Mishnah (rabbinic interpretation of the Torah) almost as authoritative as the Torah, the Law of Moses.

Yet we suspect more is happening here in this argument than simply a debate over obeying the law. By saying, "The Sabbath was made for humanity, not humanity for the Sabbath" (v. 27), Jesus indicates that the Sabbath is not an end in itself. The Sabbath is a gift from God for the welfare of the people, not for burdensome restrictions. By not working on the Sabbath, we honor God and remember our identity as God's people, but we also have a day of rest with our families. In Deuteronomy, sabbath is also described as a sign of liberation. Taking a sabbath rest is proof that we are no longer enslaved and forced to work without rest (Deut. 5:12-15).

 God gave us the laws to guide us, give us boundaries, and help us become our best selves, but we should not worship the laws. The laws are a gift to us, but they are not God. The spirit of the law should always be love.2  //

Jesus enters the synagogue and meets a man whose hand is withered. "They watched him, whether he would heal him on the Sabbath day, that they might accuse him" (v. 2). "They" undoubtedly refers to the Pharisees conducting ongoing surveillance in an attempt to expose Jesus for violating Jewish laws.

 Jesus authoritatively orders the man to stand up before everyone and angrily asks an ironic question: "Is it lawful on the Sabbath day to do good or harm? To save a life or to kill?"  The spirit of the law should always be love.

His critics are silent. (v.4). Jesus judges their hearts to be "hard."

They keep silent, waiting for a more appropriate time to entrap Jesus. Jesus has bested them in argument, so why continue to risk public debate? There's still plenty of time to wait for the opportunity to conspire now with the Herodians to expose Jesus.

Jesus glares around at the Pharisees and is sad because of their hard hearts (verse 5). He asserts his authority by noting how we can pervert so noble a tradition as Sabbath-keeping.

In 12-step work, we would also suspect that Jesus might suggest to his critics, "Clean up your side of the street." The religious authorities see all the problems with everyone else. If only others would listen to them and behave as they think they should. Their hearts are hardened, so they are unaware of looking inside themselves to see and hear that they may be mistaken. They have become worshippers of the law rather than God.

On another occasion, Jesus tells those who criticize and judge the immorality of others, "Better pull that log out of your eye before you attempt to remove the speck in your neighbor's eye."

Finally, if we look at this story through Easter eyes, all that now remains is the resurrection and the story of one who heals and turns his life and will over to the care of God, who continues to heal each of us/ against all odds/ and sets us free/ tonight.3

 

1William Willimon, Pulpit Resource, April, May, June 2024.

2 Dean Kate Moorehead Carroll, Morning Devotion, May 24, 2024.

3Tom Long, Christian Century, June 3, Ordinary Time (Mark 2:23-3:6), May 9, 2018.

Joanna Seibert joannaseibert.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

Isaiah's Call, Trinity Sunday, Isaiah 6:1-9, May 26, 2024, Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, Little Rock

Trinity Sunday, The Call, Isaiah 6:1-9, May 26, 2024

 Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church, Little Rock

The phone rings in the early morning. Your heart stops beating for a second, and you jump out of your skin. You pretend it is not ringing, /but it continues to ring. You recognize the caller ID. It keeps ringing. You finally pick up. The voice on the other end fires back. “Something has happened.

We need you. For God’s sake, can you come?”//

You walk along the beach as the sun is coming up. Walls of pink clouds streak across the horizon. The constant rhythm of the waves calms your soul. A blue heron lands next to an early morning fisherman looking for a gifted meal from his new friend. A squadron of pelicans silently flies by in precision,/ so close to the breaking gulf waters that their feathers must be getting wet. The lone osprey makes a magnificent dive for his first catch of the day. A pod of dolphins majestically glides in and out of the waves. The calmness, the wildness, and the magnificence of the spectacular morning are overwhelming. You long to sing or write or paint about it. You live out the rest of the day in a way that somehow is true to the marvel you have seen.////

You have great difficulty with someone at work. You don’t understand why she does what she does. She must be incompetent. Then, she becomes sick, and you must do her job. Overnight, you understand her. It is like the phone call ringing at night/ or the early morning sunrise at the Gulf. It is a call, a call to a new relationship, a new way of living and working. When she returns, you want to work together as a team instead of discounting each other.//

In the year that King Uzziah died, or the year John Kennedy, or Robert Kennedy, or Martin Luther King, or someone you deeply loved died, you go to the chapel to pray. You fill your lap with tears and finally cover your face with your hands. If you are not careful, you may hear a voice whisper, “I know you have experienced deep pain. Unfortunately, you now know what pain is like. Whom may I soon send to heal others in pain in this world?” After multiple visits, you reluctantly reply, “Send me.” A voice lovingly reverberates in your ear, “ You are a wounded healer. You are needed. I will be with you.”//

The work we do, our call, is what we are summoned to do in the world. We may think we choose our vocations or callings, but more accurately, they call us. Calls are given, and our lives listen or not listen. We hear all sorts of voices calling us in all directions. Some voices come from inside, and some from outside. Which voices do we listen to? Maybe both.///

For many people, Memorial Day is the unofficial beginning of summer. But this weekend, thousands of volunteers are busy placing American flags on the graves of men and women in National Cemeteries. Tomorrow, all over our country, people will honor and mourn those who died while serving this country. Each of those who died heard the call to go, and they went. What must it be like/ to hear a call/ that will likely/ cost you/ your life?

 I hear MLK again in his “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop” speech at the Bishop Charles Mason Church in Memphis as a storm rages outside the night before he is killed. He had awareness that  the call to go was stronger than his fear./ This is the last paragraph of his sermon that night.

“Well, I don’t know what will happen now; we’ve got some difficult days ahead.

But it really doesn’t matter with me now, because I’ve been to the mountaintop.  And I don’t mind.

Like anybody, I would like to live a long life—longevity has its place.

But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will.

And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over, and I’ve seen the Promised Land.

I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land.  

And so, I’m happy tonight; I’m not worried about anything; I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”1///

There is also a sad game we sometimes play. We go through our high school, college, law, medicine, seminary, or advanced degree yearbook. Buechner2 calls it a game of solitaire. We look at the friends we best knew, remember their dreams, and then recall what they are doing now. More than a few are spending their lives not using their gifts. It is easy to ponder if we also are in that group but are too blind to see.

When we are young, without responsibility,/ where there may be fewer voices, we may better hear our true call. We may better listen to the voice of the silent pelicans or the rising sun, but we may also succumb to the banal voice of mass culture of money and status, and only feel gladness on weekends away from work. We may hear the voice of our Puritan forebears that work is not supposed to be joyful, but is a penance for working through the guilt we accumulate while we are not working!

There are many plays and novels about men and women who realize they have listened to the wrong voices and are engaged in a vocation where they find no pleasure or purpose. They wonder if, instead of choosing status and salary, they could have better supported their family in a calling that was fulfilling with purpose. One such novel is Point of No Return by John Marquand. I disagree with the author’s title, however. The people I work with keep telling me, “It is never too late to change.”

To Isaiah, the voice accompanied by Se/raphs (seh·ruhf)

 said, “Your sins are forgiven. Now, whom shall I send?”/ How do we know that voice? Buechner2 writes that we should go where we most need to go, and where there is the greatest need: Where our deep gladness meets the world’s great need.” What can we do that makes us feel the most joyful and leaves us with the strongest sense of sailing true north with a sense of joy and peace? Where does our great joy in living meet the world’s greatest neediness?

How do we know where we are most needed? The world is so full of deep needs,/ grief,/ emptiness,/ fear,/ and pain even before we walk out of our house. I promise it will happen if we stay open and keep our eyes,/ ears,/ and hearts open. The phone will ring, and we will not jump out of our skin as much as we jump into our skin. If we keep our lives open, the right place will find us. Ultimately, our callings should be/ to be Christ in the world. To be Christs with whatever gladness we have in whatever place/ among whatever people we are called to./ That is Christ’s call to us all,/ even before the beginning of creation. And the great promise is that he will be with us, beside us all the way. Christ’s presence may be with us in the love of another friend, or in beauty in Nature like the sunrise or pelicans or dolphins… or maybe like Isaiah, we will be surrounded by six-winged Se/raphs (seh·ruhf) as we become the person God created us to be! ///                 

1 CNN,  Wednesday, April 4, 2018, 10:07 A.M. EDT.

2 Frederick Buechner in “The Calling of Voices,” Secrets in the Dark (HarperSanFrancisco 2006), pp. 35-41.

Joanna Seibert joannaseibert.com