"Unready"

Isaiah 6:1-8

In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple. Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. And one called to another and said:

"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, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!"
Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. The seraph touched my mouth with it and said: "Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out." Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I; send me!"

Luke 5:1-11

Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch." Simon answered, "Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets." When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!" For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people." When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.

1 Corinthians 15:1-11

I would remind you, brothers and sisters, of the good news that I proclaimed to you, which you in turn received, in which also you stand, through which also you are being saved, if you hold firmly to the message that I proclaimed to you--unless you have come to believe in vain.
For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have died. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me. For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me has not been in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them--though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me. Whether then it was I or they, so we proclaim and so you have come to believe.


Today is the fifth Sunday of Epiphany. The Season of Epiphany is all about discovering who Jesus really is. The scriptures and stories we read during this season are stories of miracles, of healings, of teachings that show us that Jesus is not just some guy from Galilee, but someone special; someone touched by the divine, someone who—by the time we get to the story of the Transfiguration—is divine.

Of course, our perspective, as readers and hearers of these biblical stories, preserved and canonized and handed down through generations, is one that takes the outcome for granted. And we know, of course, that this perspective is exactly what is not taken for granted by those in the stories themselves. The crowds, the disciples—sometimes I think even Jesus himself—did not share our automatic certainty that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God. They are always on the cusp of grasping this astonishing revelation...and then, most often, losing it. They are always in the middle of the epiphany, while we are ages past it.

It is of course nearly impossible for us to recreate the mindset of the people who lived these things, who walked and talked and watched and learned from the man Jesus, the man who occasionally is revealed to them as Someone Divine. We can’t forget that these things have happened. Even when we try to place ourselves within the narrative, as one of the disciples, or one of the crowd, or one of the many healed, our knowledge of Jesus’ identity—the very thing at issue in the stories—is a matter taken to some extent for granted, shaping how we imagine our participation in the event that reveals it. It is for this reason that we find ourselves with the easy conviction that we would have known, we would have followed, we would have said thank you, we never would have crucified, or mocked, or doubted, or denied.

So I will not ask you to imagine being there. I honestly don’t think that we can forget who Jesus is to us long enough for imagination to do the work we ask it to do.

Instead, let’s consider what these stories have in common. Sometimes, especially during ordinary or green time, the texts in the lectionary seem rather arbitrary and unrelated. This week, however, the experiences of Isaiah, Peter and Paul all seem to follow a pattern, despite the wide separation of years and circumstance that distinguish them. And because that is so, I believe the lesson we learn from the commonality of their experiences, recorded for us, is one that we can best learn not by reaching backwards with our imaginations to try to picture what it must have been like for them, but to scrutinize our own present to discern where the pattern of these experiences repeats itself in our lives, in its own unique permutation, despite the wide separation of years and circumstance between us and Isaiah, Peter and Paul.

Isaiah tells us that in the year King Uzziah died, he had a vision. He saw the Lord: as if God were a king, on a throne, with a court of seraphs as attendants. I had a professor at Harding, Mr. Eddins, who referred to such as “heavenly critters”—to emphasize the fact that we don’t really know what “seraphs” are, or what the word really means or even how to translate it, as seraph is really just an Anglicized version of the Greek-icized version of the original Hebrew word. But the symbolic point of the throne, the robe, and the heavenly critters is clear: this is a powerful and singular God Isaiah sees. And Isaiah is filled with a sense of God’s power and holiness. And because Isaiah sees just how powerful and holy this God is, the more acute his sense of his own human vulnerability and un-holiness becomes. Instead of joining with the heavenly critters in their chorus of praise, instead of proclaiming joyfully the holiness and glory of God, Isaiah voices instead his sense of his own unworthiness and fear. “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips,” he cries out.

Likewise, we see Peter protest in response to Jesus. Jesus asks a favor of Simon, later to be called Peter, which he seems happy enough to do. To get away from the pressing of the crowds, Jesus hops in his boat and asks him to put out a little way from the shore, so that Jesus can continue teaching. When he finishes, he tells Peter to go catch some fish. And here, I can’t help imagining a bit, that Peter’s reaction was in reality a little more dubious than what we get recorded in the text. Perhaps even a little miffed. After all, what does a religious teacher know about catching fish, and why would someone clearly not an expert presume to instruct someone who does it for a living? Just because he’s so smart, doesn’t mean he knows everything. But Peter does it anyway, though a little less than graciously. And when Jesus is proved right despite all expectation, Peter is amazed. But the expression of his amazement does not take the form of simple astonishment, or praise, or even a declaration of allegiance. Instead he falls down at Jesus’ feet and says, “Go away!” Why? Because, Peter says, he is a “sinful man.” Like Isaiah, Peter’s experience of the divine prompts, not acceptance or glad recognition or relief, but fear and a sense of being unworthy.

It is in Acts that we get an account of the story of Paul’s vision on the road to Damascus. Unlike Isaiah’s vision, we get a third-person rather than a first-person account: Luke’s version of Paul’s story. But in his letter to the Corinthians, Paul refers back to that experience: “Last of all, he appeared to me, as to one untimely born; for I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.” In Paul, even in retrospect, we see the same reaction repeated. The stark difference between himself and Jesus is not softened by the passage of time. The vision of the divine, even the remembrance of that vision, prompts a recognition of unworthiness.

I want to ask you now to think about yourself; not to ask you how you would feel or what you would say if you suddenly had a vision in the night of God on a throne surrounded by heavenly critters, or if Jesus appeared to you in the middle of the subway. But to ask you, do you, as I do, understand exactly what that feeling of vulnerability, fear, inability and unworthiness feels like? To be facing up to a task, and think, I cannot possibly do this? To be facing a person, and know yourself to be completely inadequate to give them what they need? To be facing the future, and worry helplessly because you have no idea what will happen to you? And dare I ask you, what manifestation of the divine was it, in those instances of fear and self-doubt, that you were reacting to? Did you see God there? Do you see God there now, in retrospect?

God doesn’t wait for us to be ready for a vision. He doesn’t require preparation for a call. God simply breaks into the mundane, unpredictably and unaccountably, and—there it is. And you have to deal. And of course, our first moment, no matter who we are, Isaiahs and Moseses and Peters and Pauls (or even Jesuses?) notwithstanding, our first instinct is to refuse. To say no. To say, I am not ready. I am a man of unclean lips. I am a sinful man. I am unfit to be called an apostle.

But God doesn’t care. Our unreadiness is a fact; it is an aspect of being human. But God doesn’t care. God calls us anyway, in the very situations and circumstances that define the nature and shape of our unreadiness.

Did I say God doesn’t care? Of course God cares. To our first, instinctive, utter refusal of God’s call, God answers: but yes. To Isaiah, the man of unclean lips, God sends a heavenly critter to clean those lips, with the message, “your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.” To Simon Peter, Jesus responds, “Do not be afraid.” And Paul, reflecting on his Damascus road experience, can say, despite his unfitness, “But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me has not been in vain.”

Do not be afraid. Your guilt has departed and your sin blotted out. By the grace of God you are what you are, and God’s grace is not in vain.

And now what?

Isaiah: “here am I, send me.” Peter, who left everything and followed. Paul, who writes the church in Corinth, “I have handed on to you what I received.” Let me suggest to you that these three unready—unclean, sinful, unfit—human beings together model for us three steps in answering our own call from God. Isaiah’s simple declaration gives us the first: acceptance. No more protesting or arguing, but acceptance that even this powerful, mighty God is asking us, you, me, for help; asking us to be God’s presence in this world. Peter’s action gives us the second: leave it and follow. I don’t know what form this may take in your life. It took a radical one in Peter’s—not just a job change, but an apparently complete forsaking of material goods and any prospect of security. Paul, finally, gives us the third: handing on what has been given to us, making “brothers and sisters” of all whom we encounter, proclaiming to them the good news through which we are being saved and through which all may be saved.

“For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve.”

Amen.