The call of the prophet in our Old Testament lesson and the
call of the first disciples in the Gospel present strikingly
different images. The prophet Isaiah presents a dark and
frightening scene—a vision that reflects the majesty and power
of God, the difference in scale and holiness between God and
humans—even the hem of God's robe completely fills the temple.
"Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts;
the whole earth is full of his glory."
The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who
called, and the house filled with smoke. And I said: "Woe is
me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips”
Yet the Gospel lesson is entirely different, almost
comic—there's Jesus talking to a bunch of people and over a
little way off is a group of discouraged fishermen—no fish,
just cleaning their nets. Jesus works his way over, and starts
teaching from the boat. Of course, when Jesus finishes
talking, he has something to say to the fishermen--'let's go
out in deep water, and throw down the nets for a catch'--you
can pretty much hear Peter thinking 'Oof! This guy is no
fisherman, we've been fishing all night, caught nothing, and
we've just finished cleaning the nets.' Just what they need,
another Know-it-All. Then, of course, the miracle story
aspect takes over, and their problem moves from having no fish
to having too many fish. It's like something out of Charlie
Chaplin, or perhaps the Three Stooges. The two images are
very different, but they share one thing in common, the people
who are called, end up frightened. Why is that?
These are both stories of God's Call: Isaiah's call to
be a prophet, Peter and Zebedee's sons call to be Jesus'
disciples. What is this Call? It’s quite common to equate
the call with the ordained ministry, but I find this
problematic—on the one hand, it glorifies the mundane (if
tortuous) process of committees and commissions that comprise
the bulk of the path to ordination and on the other, it lets
the great majority of Christians, that aren’t going to be
ordained, off the hook. The Call is the invitation from God,
and it is for everyone. Though for each one, it is a little
different.
The story of Isaiah's call continues: Isaiah is
directed to be a prophet to a people who would not listen and
to foretell their being sent into exile in Babylon—not exactly
what the clergy of that time did, nor is it a very desirable
task. In years past, the Old Testament lesson for this Sunday
was the story of Gideon, which was fun because Gideon was
called to bring the people together to fight off the
Midianites. But Gideon preferred to hide and to try to argue
with God to get out of his calling. Of course, that's a
pretty common occurrence; God's expectations of each of us may
be more inconvenient than we like
These inconveniences can be mere small things in life,
not as grand a thing as calling together people to go to war
against your enemies. For example, a person who wants everyone
to placidly get along without conflict might find a call to
speak uncomfortable truths quite difficult. Likewise, a person
who wants to make everything happen right away, might find a
call to be patient or quiet to be quite impossible. God's
call comes in life, not in stained glass.
We know who Jesus is, we hear his Gospel every week.
He is out there in everyday life, in offices and on the street
every bit as much as he was in that fishing boat with Peter.
If we hear Jesus and pray, we know what it is to be his: what
generosity is, what humility is, and courage and gentleness
and hope. Listen for God, and at some point you will discern
God's call. Sometimes it will be an opportunity to be humble
or generous on a single occasion; at times God's call can be
for a pattern for life: a career, or a community, or a
life-long relationship.
Back to the guys on the boats. Out there cleaning the
nets, that's a real image of discouragement—no fish, a whole
night's work wasted. Maybe the lake is fished out; the fish
are gone forever? Then Jesus comes, with his “Good News”--
but notice, the first reaction is not happiness. Peter seems
pretty annoyed to me. And they put out into the water, and
drop the nets that they have just cleaned back into the
water. This incredible catch of fish—Peter calls for help,
his colleagues come out, they rush and struggle to land the
net. And their reaction? Not joy. Fear. This new reality is
frightening—lots of the security of the past is gone, and it
is none too sure that Peter and the sons of Zebedee will make
it through this safely.
And that may be the surest sign of the call of God:
fear and uncertainty. Ask our friend Gene Robinson next time
you see him—he's one of the most joyful and transparent people
I've ever seen in responding to God's call—but ask him, is he
ever afraid or uncertain? The call of God is a frightening
thing, largely because God is indeed there.
As individuals are called, so also are communities.
One community that is familiar to us that is experiencing a
lot of fear nowadays is the Episcopal Church. Like the
fishermen in their boats, many in the institution are afraid
it will fall apart and sink. I take this as a sign that we
are called to listen and discern, how our church is called to
be Jesus' Church: in humility, compassion and hopefulness. In
the process, who knows what we may lose? Perhaps the vestiges
of being the church of power, wealth and privilege—believe me,
responding to the call of God is bound to hurt.
The continuation of the passage of Isaiah that we
heard read today is: “Go and say to the people –'Keep
listening, but do not comprehend; keep looking, but do not
understand.' Make the mind of this people dull and stop their
ears, and shut their eyes... Until the cities lie
waste...until the Lord sends everyone far away.” Isaiah the
prophet was called to announce the exile in Babylon, and God's
judgment on kings and people of Judah. God is present in his
sanctuary and in our sharing of the bread and wine, while the
seraphim continually cry:
“Holy, Holy Holy is the LORD of hosts;
the whole earth is full of his glory.”