Who Me?

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Who Me?” Exodus 3:1-12

God knew the suffering of God’s people. A new leader rose to power. He stirred memories of former greatness and fanned the flames of national pride. He promised a better future and denounced the evil of other nations. He saw enemies everywhere. They practiced other faiths, loved differently, came from other lands, or held differing political convictions. His special police roamed the streets in brown shirts and jack boots. His dogs of war pushed past borders, greedy for new lands. His enemies began to disappear: vanished in the middle of the night, taken from workplaces, snatched off the street. The trains rolled on and the camps filled up, smoke rising against sullen skies. Some fled to avoid catastrophe, leaving everything behind to keep their lives.

God knew the suffering of God’s people. The color of your skin determined the quality of your life. They knew the back of the bus, the wrong side of the tracks, and the third-rate school. They endured the endless cycle of share cropper debt, and the daily humiliations of the maid, the cook, the laundress, the mammy. They had no political representation. They couldn’t vote. Men in white hoods burned crosses on their lawns. Men in speeding cars tossed Molotov cocktails through living room windows. If they forgot where they belonged, they faced jail time, a beating, a lynching.

God knew the suffering of God’s people. Long ago, they fled famine to seek sanctuary and grain from brother Joseph in Egypt. But a new Pharaoh ruled who didn’t know Joseph. A new Pharoah arose who feared God’s people. He saw them as sub-human foreigners, beasts of burden to be exploited and controlled. He oppressed them with forced work. He punished theme with harsh taskmasters. He murdered their boy babies. They ate the bread of suffering and drank the tears of bitter grief.

They escaped over the Alps, braving the heights and the weather in search of sanctuary. They scurried one by one, two by two, sometimes in small families through the streets of the village of Le Chambon. They were desperate and frightened, fleeing certain death for an uncertain future. One cold and snowy evening, Magda Trocmé opened her door to a woman in a thin coat with terribly worn, wet shoes. Magda invited her guest in and put the woman’s shoes in the oven to dry. Later, the smell of smoke alerted them that the worn, wet shoes were ruined. She fed the woman, gave her a bed for the night, and then quietly appealed to neighbors for shoes. Her husband André secured false documents on the black market to safeguard their guest’s travel. In the morning, they sent her south to safety in new shoes.

She worked as a seamstress for affluent white neighbors. One day, she left work, shopped at the local discount drugstore, and boarded a bus for home. She took a seat in the middle of the bus next to a Black man and across from two Black women. She was 42-years-old and the bursitis in her shoulders was acting up. As the bus continued along its regular route, the white-only seats filled up. At the third stop in front of the Empire Theater, several white passengers boarded, but there weren’t enough seats. The driver demanded that Black passengers in the middle rows move. Everyone near Rosa Parks did, but she didn’t. When the police came, she was arrested and charged with breaking state law. Later, she was tried and convicted. She was fined $10, with a further $4 in court fees, equivalent to about $171 today.

God knew the suffering of God’s people, but Moses wasn’t so sure that he wanted to get involved. Long ago, he left Egypt and the Hebrew people far behind. In fact, he fled the Nile delta as a wanted man, having killed an Egyptian taskmaster for abusing an Israelite slave. Moses was born an Israelite and raised as a foundling in Pharaoh’s house, but he felt he didn’t belong anywhere. Now in midlife, he had a good life in a new land. When God spoke to Moses from the burning bush, Moses could think of every reason to not get involved. He didn’t have a dog in that fight anymore, he wasn’t eloquent, and Pharaoh would never listen to him anyway. But God assured Moses that those excuses didn’t matter because God would be with him. Moses returned to his father-in-law’s camp, packed up his wife Zipporah and the kids, and returned to Egypt.

Rev. Andre Trocmé, his wife Magda, and the residents of the Alpine parish of Le Chambon, France, helped more than 5,000 German refugees during the second World War. They did so despite the Nazi occupation of their nation. They did so despite incredible peril to their own safety and freedom. Perhaps most extraordinary about their actions was their belief that they were utterly ordinary people, practicing the simplest acts of Christian hospitality. Late in life, when Magda was asked why she had hosted that first refugee, she responded, “It was dinner time.”  She opened the door, and before she knew it, the community was caught up in God’s great purpose for their lives.

Rosa Parks’ act of civil disobedience on that Montgomery bus sparked much broader social action by Blacks and progressive whites in her community. It launched the Montgomery Bus Boycott. Soon after Rosa’s trial, 15,000 Montgomery residents attended a planning meeting at the Holt Street Baptist Church, where the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke and Ralph Abernethy shared the demands of their civil disobedience. It took 381 days, but segregation on Montgomery’s public transportation system eventually ended. Many years later in her autobiography, Rosa Parks wrote that she had refused to yield her seat that day not so much out of a sense of holy purpose as it was from the awareness that she was just plain “tired of giving in.” She played a pivotal role in bending the arc of the moral universe toward God’s justice.

Upon his return to Egypt, Moses went to Pharaoh with God’s demands. Just as Moses had anticipated, Pharaoh did not listen. Ten times, God sent Moses to Pharoah with the bold demand for freedom. Ten times, God sent plagues to soften the hardness of Pharaoh’s heart. The Nile turned to blood. Frogs, gnats, and flies swarmed. Pestilence and boils erupted. Hail fell. Locusts destroyed the harvest. Darkness fell across the land. Finally, the firstborn of all Egypt died. When Pharaoh yielded to God’s demand, Moses led the people out of Egypt and on to the holy mountain, where the bush had burned but was not consumed. God blessed Moses and the people with the Law and the promise of a land that would flow with milk and honey. In saying yes to God’s call, Moses served a holy purpose that ended the people’s suffering.

God knows the suffering of God’s people. They dig through the rubble of a city destroyed by earthquake. They thirst for clean water in sub-Saharan Africa. They wait in squalid detention centers to be deported to a land where they once fled death squads. They languish in the corridors of skilled nursing facilities where family never visits. Their civil and voting rights are yet again at risk. They stand in grocery store aisles and wonder how to put enough food on the table to feed their families. God knows the suffering of God’s people.

God calls us to join God’s great work of help and healing, justice and liberation. Some days, all we can do is think of all the reasons that we really cannot commit. We’re too busy. We work too many hours. We have too few financial resources. We are too old or too young. We have a few too many personal problems. We don’t know what the neighbors might think.

This morning, the stories of Le Chambon, Rosa Parks, and Moses remind us that when God calls us, all we need is a heart that will offer hospitality. All we need is a spirit that is sick and tired of giving in. All we need is to trust that God will be with us despite our shortcomings. God knows the suffering of God’s people. So do we. When God calls through the burning bush or the importune neighbor or the overcrowded confines of a city bus or the everyday encounters of our own lives, may we say, “Here I am. Use me.”

Resources

Roger Nam. “Commentary on Exodus 3:1-15” in Preaching This Week, August 30, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-22/commentary-on-exodus-31-15

Kimberly Russaw. “Commentary on Exodus 3:1-15” in Preaching This Week, September 3, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-22/commentary-on-exodus-31-15-6

Cameron BR Howard. “Commentary on Exodus 3:1-15” in Preaching This Week, August 30, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-22/commentary-on-exodus-31-15-7

Philip Hallie. Lest Innocent Blood Be Shed. Harper Perennial, 1994.

Rosa Parks, Jim Haskins. My Story. Puffin Books, 1999.


Exodus 3:1-12

Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness and came to Mount Horeb,[a] the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight and see why the bush is not burned up.” When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” He said further, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

Then the Lord said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land to a good and spacious land, to a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them. 10 Now go, I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” 11 But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” 12 He said, “I will be with you, and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall serve God on this mountain.”


Photo by Jeffry Surianto on Pexels.com

Catching People

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Catching People” Luke 5:1-11

When it comes to vocation, we tend to think of people like me—clergy. We work through years of graduate studies. We learn biblical languages. We devote our lives to preaching the gospel. We live to lead churches and seek ways to be good news for our communities.

When it comes to vocation, we think of people who live the monastic life. They join religious communities and dedicate themselves to a holy purpose. Like Mother Teresa, they tend the poorest of the poor in slums around the world. Or, like Julian of Norwich, they live a cloistered life, apart from the public. They commit their days to prayer, contemplation, worship, and devotion to God.

When it comes to vocation, our thoughts turn to great Christian thinkers throughout history. We remember C.S. Lewis, who during the Second World War offered spiritual comfort to the people of Great Britain with faithful fireside chats, broadcast by BBC Radio. Or we think of Presbyterian author Ann Lamott, whose wry essays and autobiographical books about the life of faith offer inspiration and a healthy dose of humor.

When it comes to vocation, we don’t typically think of ourselves. We don’t have seminary degrees. We’ve never studied Hebrew and Greek, nor would we want to. Our lives are not cloistered. We don’t have the luxury of praying 24/7. We don’t inspire the worldwide web with our latest podcast. We don’t write books that rocket to the top of the New York Times bestseller list. We are who we are. Don’t talk to us about vocation.

Jesus might want to expand our understanding of vocation this morning. Take Simon Peter for example. In those days when you did what your father did, Peter didn’t have a priestly or scribal pedigree. He was a fisherman, someone who spent his time casting a dragnet into the Sea of Galilee, plucking from the depths a fishy harvest that provided for his family. He must have been pretty good at it, too—successful enough to own his own boats and nets, successful enough to have partners in his trade. Peter had the sort of everyday concerns that we deal with: taxes to pay, social conflicts between rival factions, and the political chaos that was first century Israel. If you asked anyone in the crowd that gathered on the lakeshore that morning to point to the person most likely to receive a special invitation to join Jesus in ministry, I doubt that anyone would have pointed to Simon Peter and his partners. But Jesus thought otherwise.

Jesus’ invitation for our lives often comes when we, like Peter, are minding our own business and caught up in everyday busyness. One day, we are sitting in our office when we read an advertisement printed on a brown paper lunch bag. It says, “Imagine if you couldn’t read this message.” We think about how much we love to read, how important it is for everything from school to work, from learning about current events to paying bills. Or One Thanksgiving, we take our aging mother to a community dinner. At the meal, we are impressed. The food is great and plentiful. The atmosphere is friendly and family like. An army of helpers make the dinner a warm and welcoming event. Or one year, we stop on our daily walk around the village to watch the IPW at work. We marvel at the teamwork – folks harvesting ice, moving blocks, guiding them into place, and slinging slush. All that volunteer effort makes an Ice Palace fit for a music legend. Our opportunities to serve find us all the time, whether we want them to or not.

Simon Peter’s story suggests that we can be resistant to our calling. Peter resisted the invitation to put out into deep water and lower his nets. Who could blame him? The man had plied his dragnets all night long without anything to show for it, and he knew that, this late in the day, fish in the Sea of Galilee would retreat into the cool depths, far from the reach of his nets. When Peter said to Jesus, “If you say so, I will let down the nets,” it sounded less like the fisherman was eagerly jumping to it and more like he was merely humoring the Lord. Even the abundant catch didn’t convince Peter to sign on as a disciple. It left him feeling inadequate and ill-equipped. On his knees in the bottom of the boat, amid the slippery, silvery catch, all Peter could stammer were all the reasons he couldn’t do the job, “Lord, you got the wrong guy, I am a sinful man.”

We, too, can think of every good reason to say, “No!” when the opportunity to love our neighbors and serve God’s Kingdom finds us. We are tired. We are too busy. We have other plans. If we say “yes” to Jesus, we might have to say “no” to something else, and we have FOMO—fear of missing out on what is just around the corner. We think we don’t have what it takes. We wonder what the neighbors might say. We’re just too sinful for all this vocation stuff. In some ways, all those excuses and worries have an element of truth. But Jesus isn’t looking for perfection. Jesus is looking for commitment, a humble “yes” to giving it a try.

When Simon Peter moved past his resistance to Jesus’ purpose for his life, he would become a blessing to the world around him. Peter’s abundant catch on the Sea of Galilee was an anticipation of the many, many people that Peter would help as he stepped up to his role as a disciple. Peter would bless Aeneas with mobility after years of paralysis. He would raise the disciple Dorcas to life after her sudden death. He would welcome even the Gentiles to God’s love by baptizing the Roman Centurion Cornelius and his family.

We, too, when we move past our resistance and dare to commit to the opportunity to serve God and neighbor, are a blessing to others. That paper bag invitation to consider the importance of literacy prompts us to help people discover the joy of reading. We tutor learning disabled adults who slipped through the cracks in public school. We mentor refugee kids who have escaped hunger or terror to find a new life in a new land. That Thanksgiving community meal inspires us to get involved. The next Thanksgiving, the whole family is making pies, serving meals, and sharing hospitality with neighbors that we didn’t even know we had. That pause at the Ice Palace in our daily walk leads to decades of commitment to the IPW. From sketching next year’s palace on a cocktail napkin to monitoring ice on Lake Flower, from working alongside our neighbors to delighting in the joy of visitors, we become a blessing.

Simon Peter’s story reminds us that in saying “yes” to Jesus we get blessed, even as we are a blessing. Peter would find a remarkable friendship with Jesus, who accepted and loved him just as he was. Peter would become first among the apostles, beloved by the early church and treasured by the tradition. Peter would find meaning and purpose that he had never dared to imagine, and he had the satisfaction of knowing that because he joined his purpose to the Lord’s mission, the world would never be the same.

We can trust that as we say “yes” to our opportunities to serve God and neighbor, we too will be blessed. My choice to tutor refugee children in Virginia would change how I looked at the world. It would set me on a path to support other refugees from Washington, DC to Chicago to Saranac Lake. In all those relationships, I assure you that I have been more blessed by others than they have been by me. I am certain that if we check in with our friends who volunteer at the Community Lunchbox, the Wednesday Community Supper, or the Thanksgiving Dinner at the Adult Center, they will wax poetic about the personal blessing of their commitment. Likewise, if you take time to inquire of any of our Ice Palace Workers, they will regale you with tales of laughter, community, and joy that have blessed them beyond measure in their years of service.

Jesus set Peter’s feet on the path of catching people. But on that fateful day on the lakeshore, it was Peter who got caught—caught up in God’s purpose for our world. When it comes to vocation, we tend to think of clergy people, monks and nuns, scholars and authors. But Simon Peter might encourage us to look in the mirror. Jesus has an invitation for us, my friends. He would like to catch us. May we say “yes” to his calling.

Resources

Abraham Smith. “Commentary on Luke 5:1-11” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 9, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-luke-51-11-8

Pamela Cooper-White. “Pastoral Perspective on Luke 5:1-11” in Feasting on the Gospels: Luke Volume 1. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Ronald J. Allen. “Homiletical Perspective on Luke 5:1-11” in Feasting on the Gospels: Luke Volume 1. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Ronald J. Allen. “Commentary on Luke 5:1-11” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 10, 2019. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-luke-51-11-4


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 gotten 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 burst. 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’s knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” For he and all who were with him were astounded at the catch of fish that they had taken, 10 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.” 11 When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.


Image Source: https://www.adirondackdailyenterprise.com/news/local-news/2025/02/celebrate-good-times-come-on/

The Pearl of Scotland

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Pearl of Scotland” Isaiah 6:1-8

Let me tell you two stories.

Margaret never wanted to be a queen. She was the granddaughter of Edmund Ironside, one of the last Saxon kings of England. Amid the struggle for succession that followed Edmund’s death, Margaret’s father Edward was sent to the protection of King Stephen of Hungary. When Margaret was only nine, the family returned to England, where the king, childless and aging, had resolved to adopt Edward as his heir. But within days of their return to English soil, Edward fell mysteriously ill and died. For the next twelve years, Margaret was a dependent of the royal court until her brother Harold could inherit the crown. Margaret had little appetite for court with its pomp, intrigue, and power. Instead, she led a quiet and devout life, finding comfort in prayer, the study of scripture, and meditating upon the life of Christ. She was befriended by a fellow exile, Malcolm of Scotland, whose father had been murdered by the usurper Macbeth.

Isaiah never wanted to be a prophet. Young Isaiah was worshipping in the Temple, surrounded by songs and prayers, sacrifice and incense, when he saw a vision of the heavenly throne room. So limitless was God that the Temple could barely contain the hem of God’s robe.  In a flash of spiritual insight, Isaiah realized that his earthly worship was only a dim echo of heavenly rejoicing. Six-winged seraphs thundered God’s praise, shouting “Holy, holy, holy!” Amid the overwhelming sanctity of the heavenly and earthly throne rooms, Isaiah heard an undeniable voice. The Triune God called, saying to him, “Whom shall I send?”

Margaret’s calling came in the year 1066 when she was twenty-one. William the Conqueror laid claim to the English throne and defeated the British at the Battle of Hastings. Margaret, with her mother and siblings, fled north and boarded a boat, intent on returning to the safety of Hungary. But as the boat got underway, a mighty wind blew them off course, driving them ever further north until they ran aground in the broad estuary where the Forth River empties into the North Sea. There, they learned that providence had brought them to an old friend: Malcolm of Scotland. Now king, Malcolm was widowed with a young son. By all accounts, when Malcolm again saw Margaret, he fell head-over-heels in love. Here was his new queen, sent to him by God. Within days, Malcolm proposed, but the exiled princess turned down the royal invitation.

When God asked, “Whom shall I send?”, Isaiah was reluctant to answer the call. Confronted by the earthshaking holiness of God almighty, Isaiah felt only his frailty and unworthiness. Every false or self-serving statement that Isaiah had ever spoken rang in his ears, forcing him to confess the painful truth of his sinfulness, “I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips.” But the reluctant Isaiah soon learned that God could work with that. A coal, plucked from the fire of the heavenly throne room, touched Isaiah’s lips, and his sins were refined by the holy fire. Isaiah’s overweening sense of unworthiness was replaced by a compulsion to speak God’s word to the people.

When the exiled Princess Margaret declined Malcolm’s proposal, the Scottish King persisted. He granted Margaret’s family his protection, and they came to live in his castle at Dunfermline. There Margaret saw a royal court far removed from the pomp and intrigue of England. Malcolm was illiterate. His subjects lived in poverty. Margaret’s love for the king began as she read to him from the New Testament, and she learned of his passion to improve the lives of his people. Margaret and Malcolm heard in the words of Jesus, an imperative to serve the “least of these.” More than three years after that fateful wind blew her north to Scotland, Margaret finally said, “Yes,” to Malcolm. She came to see that her royal marriage would allow her to serve two kingdoms, one earthly, the other heavenly.

Isaiah’s words of prophecy held a similar concern for the vulnerable of the land. He had seen the face of poverty and the indifference of the rich. They had failed to honor the words of God, ignored the plight of the widow and orphan, denied justice to the foreign worker, and ground the face of the poor into the dust. The prophet spoke God’s judgment against the Kingdom of Judah, pleading with them to repent. Time was short, Isaiah warned, but they could still learn to do good: to seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, and plead for the widow (Is. 1:17). If they failed, God would bring judgment against the people of Israel. Babylon would rise. Judah would be conquered and taken into exile.

Margaret and Malcolm had a happy, fruitful marriage. The exiled princess, now a queen, became the mother of eight children and the mother of the Scottish people. She saw herself as a steward, entrusted by God with the care of a nation. Each morning, Margaret left the palace at Dunfermline with her New Testament tucked under her arm. She took a seat on a rock outside the royal residence to receive guests who came to her for counsel, prayer, and help. The queen fed nine orphans every morning with her own silver spoon. Each evening, Margaret and Malcolm opened their table to 24 of their poorest neighbors. They instituted a series of feast days, in keeping with the church calendar, when 300 of their most vulnerable subjects were banqueted with royal splendor. Motivated by the love of Christ, they built schools and churches, opened hospitals and hostels, and rebuilt Iona Abbey, which had fallen into ruin. They instituted sabbath laws, giving workers a weekly day of rest. Margaret had special concern for prisoners and exiles. She bought the freedom of English and Irish slaves, returning them to their homelands.

When Isaiah’s prophecy was fulfilled and Judah fell to Babylonian invaders, Isaiah’s call shifted as the no-longer-powerful people of Judah became as vulnerable as the poor they had once oppressed. Isaiah spoke God’s words of consolation to a hurting people, “Comfort, comfort my people, says your God.  Speak tenderly to Jerusalem” (Isaiah 40:1).  Years later as the exiles returned home, Isaiah went with them, prophesying about God’s plans for a new beginning for the humbled nation, speaking God’s promise, “For I will create a new heaven and a new earth; the past events will not be remembered or come to mind” (Isaiah 65:17). Perhaps Isaiah’s greatest legacy, though, was the lasting impact that he would have upon all who pursue God’s call to serve the last and the least. When Jesus preached to his hometown crowd in Nazareth, he opened the scroll to the words of the prophet Isaiah and read words that were fulfilled in his ministry, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

In 1093, when King Malcolm and their oldest son were killed in a skirmish with Norman invaders, Queen Margaret, hearing the news in Edinburgh, fell sick. She died three days later; some say of a broken heart. But Margaret and Malcolm’s youngest son, David, would become Scotland’s most beloved king, pursuing his father’s royal rule and his mother’s passion for the least of these. One hundred and fifty years after Margaret’s death, those who remembered her life and legacy began to advocate for her canonization as a saint. The trouble was that she didn’t fit the traditional mold of sainthood. She was a devoted wife and the happy mother of a large family. She worked no miracles, other than the everyday miracle of loving her people and advocating ceaselessly for their health, justice, and care. The arbiters of sainthood in Rome came up with four posthumous miracles for Margaret, all related to her tomb and bones. Today Margaret is reverenced as the patron saint of service to the poor, learning, large families, mothers, and all those who are raising children. Margaret’s greater legacy is felt whenever we, who have privilege by virtue of our birth, education, or wealth, choose to generously use our resources for the good of our vulnerable neighbors.

In his biography of Margaret, her friend and confessor Bishop Turgot of St. Andrews, noted that the name Margaret derives from the Greek word Margaron, meaning pearl. Turgot wrote, “She was called Margaret, and in the sight of God she showed herself to be a pearl, precious in faith and works. She was indeed a pearl to you, to me, to all of us, yea, to Christ Himself, and being Christ’s she is all the more ours now that she has left us, having been taken to the Lord. . . and now she shines in her place among the jewels of the Eternal King.” Margaret has been known as the Pearl of Scotland ever since.

Resources:

Turgot, Bishop of St. Andrew’s. “Life of St. Margaret Queen of Scotland.” trans. Theodericus Monk of Durham and William Forbes-Leith. Edinburgh: William Paterson Press, 1884. Accessed online at https://archive.org/details/lifeofstmargaret00turguoft/lifeofstmargaret00turguoft/page/n9/mode/2up

Clerk of Oxford. “St Margaret of Scotland,” June 10, 2012. Accessed online at https://aclerkofoxford.blogspot.com/2012/06/st-margaret-of-scotland.html

Griffiths, Paul James. “Queen Margaret: the Pearl of Scotland” in The Middle Ages, May 7, 2021. Accessed online at https://www.christianheritageedinburgh.org.uk

Floyd, Michael. “Exegetical Perspective on Isaiah 6:1-8” in Feasting on the Word, Year B Vol. 2.  Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009.

Ramsey Jr., G. Lee. “Homiletical Perspective on Isaiah 6:1-8” in Feasting on the Word, Year B Vol. 2.  Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009.


Isaiah 6:1-8

6In 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. 2Seraphs 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. 3And one called to another and said: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory.” 4The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke.

5And 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!” 6Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. 7The 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.” 8Then 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!”


Santa Margarida da Escócia – Basílica de São Patrício, Montreal (Canadá) – Foto: Gustavo Kralj

Teambuilding

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Teambuilding” Mark 1:14-20

Teambuilding began in the United States in the early twentieth century. The early behavioral psychologist Elton Mayo conducted a series of experiments to determine if workplaces could be changed to increase productivity and yield greater profits. Dr. Mayo tested his theories at Hawthorne Works, a large factory complex of the Western Electric Company in Cicero, Illinois. Hawthorne employed 45,000 workers, mass-producing telephone equipment. The factory had a diverse workforce: Czech immigrants, longtime working-class Chicagoans, and African Americans who had migrated north from the deep south.

Dr. Mayo began his testing by changing the physical environment of workers. He altered lighting and manipulated the humidity of the workplace, but physical changes had little or no affect. Next, he expanded the study to observe social and emotional factors that might have an impact upon workers, like their interactions with managers and co-workers. Dr. Mayo hit paydirt.

Building relationships between leaders and workers inspired feelings of teamwork. Leaders saw their role as providing vital support for teammates. Workers developed a sense of responsibility to colleagues. All that led to positive changes in employee performance. Not only were workers more productive, but they also had a greater sense of satisfaction in the workplace. Bonds nurtured at work also led to diverse, lasting friendships in the community.

The experiments revolutionized industry and launched a century of teambuilding efforts. Today teambuilding is a core concept of organizational development and management. Teambuilding exercises are an integral part of training for the US Army, professional athletics, and corporate, as well as non-profit, workplaces.

Jesus knew the importance of building a team to follow and work alongside him in ministry.  In our reading from Mark’s gospel, Jesus began his own teambuilding.  As Jesus walked the shores of the Sea of Galilee, he noticed brothers Peter and Andrew casting their fishing nets.  Jesus saw something he liked. He called them to follow him. Immediately, they joined him.  Just a little farther along the shoreline, Jesus ran into another set of brothers—James and John, mending nets with their father Zebedee.  Soon they, too, had joined the team, leaving their family and fishing boat behind. There would be other disciples: Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, Little James, Thaddeus, Simon, and Judas. Eventually, there would be twelve disciples serving in what scholars call the “inner circle” of Jesus’ ministry.

For sixteen centuries, faithful people described what Jesus did with the disciples as a summoning to vocation—where vocation meant the calling to a consecrated, religious life, as a priest or nun. With the Protestant Reformation, all that changed. First Martin Luther and then John Calvin taught that all Christians have a vocation or calling to use our God-given gifts in our secular workplaces and in the congregations that we affiliate with. The minister who preaches the gospel has a calling, but so do the musicians who enhance our worship and the Sanctus workers who dust the pews. Team Jesus calls us all.

The disciples made a diverse group. Perhaps the only thing they had in common was their shared heritage as Israelites. Peter, Andrew, James, and John earned their living on the Sea of Galilee, casting nets or towing dragnets to yield a harvest of freshwater fish. Matthew was, of course, a tax collector. He straddled the uncomfortable gap between the ruling elite and the everyday people, collecting taxes from his neighbors to finance Herod’s building projects or pay for the Roman occupation. The name Bartholomew means Son of the Furrows (or fields). He was a farmer. Simon, often called Simon the Zealot, was a bit of a radical, affiliated with the resistance group that would eventually revolt against the Roman occupation. Jesus knew it would take a variety of people to build his team and serve the Kingdom.

Our team has diversity, too. We serve (or have served) in schools as teachers, counselors, and administrators. We are healers: nurses, doctors, researchers, and home health aides. We are civil servants who have served the APA, DEC, or our local governments. We are businesspeople, running small businesses, programming computers, or sharing our expertise as consultants. Somehow those differing vocations have found a spiritual home and shared purpose right here.

The disciples on Team Jesus had differing gifts. Peter was a leader: the first to know that Jesus was the Messiah, the first to retreat to Galilee after the crucifixion, and the first to avow his love when the risen Lord found him on the lakeshore a second time. Philip had the gift of reaching out; no sooner had he found Jesus than he was inviting his friend Nathanael to come and see this rabbi who just might be the Messiah. Thomas asked the big questions, but he also had the gift of loyalty: he followed Jesus to Jerusalem, even when he expected the worst. John had the gift of love, laying his head upon the Lord’s breast in companionable silence and standing at the foot of the cross with the women. It would take a variety of gifts to achieve Jesus’ purpose. All were valued and needed.

We, too, are a people of differing gifts. We may be richly blessed with musical gifts. Or, we may we have a passion for learning and studying scripture. We may have the patience to teach and work with children. We have gifts for good cooking, yummy baking, and warm hospitality. We care–our warm sympathy overflows for folks in tough times. We are generous, sharing of our resources and money. In the sharing of our differing gifts, churches like this thrive, and Jesus is known.

Somehow, Jesus forged the diverse and differently gifted disciples into a team that would change the world. There were some teambuilding exercises along the way. They learned to depend upon one another when he sent them out in pairs to teach and heal. They learned to trust in his power and presence when their boat was rocked by a rising storm. They learned that they could feed hungry people by sharing their meager resources and believing that with Jesus just a little could be enough. Jesus built his team to minister at his side, but even more so, he built a team that, in the long years to come, could minister even when he wasn’t right there, telling them what to do.

Team Jesus was wildly successful, with productivity and profits far outpacing the biggest dreams of Dr. Elton Mayo and those early twentieth century captains of industry. Peter would appoint himself chief among apostles to the Hebrew people, but the Holy Spirit had bigger things in mind. From the household of the Roman Centurion Cornelius in Caesarea Maritime to the household of the emperor in Rome, Peter would lead the charge of the early church into new territory. John would plant a church in Israel whose loving bonds would survive terrible persecution. John would successfully lead his congregation into exile, from Israel across the Mediterranean to western Turkey. There he would write at least three letters that we continue to cherish today, and his memories of Jesus would eventually be recorded in the Gospel that bears his name. Bartholomew never went back to farming. He teamed up with his fellow disciple Thaddeus to venture as far as India with the gospel message. Along the way, they planted the seeds of faith in Armenia, which became the first Christian nation in the year 301. Simon the Zealot left behind his political aspirations. He traveled to Egypt and North Africa and planted churches from Cairo to Alexandria to Cyrene. Some traditions say that Simon traveled on to Spain and then Britain where he shared about his life with Jesus until he lost his own life, crucified by the Romans in the year 61CE. What a team! They took the good news from one end of the Roman Empire to the other—and beyond.

Our team may not travel as far afield in the Lord’s purpose, but our differing gifts have been shared in ways that have made a life-changing difference for others. The good news that we share with our children in Sunday School, Youth Group, and confirmation provides a foundation of faith that will sustain them as they go off to school, embark on professional endeavors, and start families of their own. Our passion for feeding hungry people has motivated us to grow bushel upon bushel of beans at the Jubilee Garden, fill the pack basket with monthly food offerings, create a permanent home for the Saranac Lake Food Pantry, and make a dent in global hunger through CROP Walk and Church World Service. Our commitment to caring makes a loving difference. It prompts deacons to reach out to homebound friends, inspires prayer chain warriors to pray fervently, sends us forth with summer bouquets for folks who need love, and equips us to comfort families at the time of death. What a team! We are good news for a world still deeply in need of the love and mercy of Jesus.

As the New Year unfolds, so will the teambuilding efforts of the world around us. The army will build cohesiveness among recruits by inviting them to work together to carry super heavy loads that can’t be handled alone or by dropping units off in the middle of nowhere with orders to return to base forthwith. Athletic managers will build trust and mutual respect among their professional athletes by giving them each a few clues, locking them together in an escape room, and giving them an hour to get out. Titans of industry will hope to unlock productivity and profits by scheduling teambuilding retreats for their employees. Participants will try exchanging warm fuzzies (compliments), meditating, and facing the physical challenge of a ropes course.

I suspect that Jesus will continue to build his team right here at the First Presbyterian Church. He’ll inspire us to welcome diversity. He’ll celebrate our differing gifts. He’ll delight as we get busy in his purpose. Go, Team Jesus!

Resources

Michael Rogness. Commentary on Mark 1:14-20” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 25, 2015. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Cynthia Briggs Kittredge. “Commentary on Mark 1:14-20” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 21, 2018. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Alicia Vargas. “Commentary on Mark 1:14-20” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 21, 2024. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Feli Oliveros. “What is Team Building? How to Build Stronger, Cohesive Teams in 2023” in Talkshop, July 29, 2023. Accessed online at https://gusto.com

Angela Robinson. “History of Team Building” in teambuilding, Sept. 27, 2022. Accessed online at https://teambuilding.com.


Mark 1:14-20

14Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, 15and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” 16As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. 17And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” 18And immediately they left their nets and followed him. 19As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. 20Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.


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Slow Call

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Slow Call” Luke 5:1-11

When Matthew and Mark remembered the day that Jesus called those first disciples, it was an all-at-once experience.  Jesus saw the fishermen, Peter, Andrew, James, and John, on the lakeshore.  He invited them to a life of discipleship with the words, “Follow me.”  Then, the four mariners embarked on a new life of discipleship, leaving Father Zebedee behind in the boat.

Luke remembered things differently.  About once every six years, the lectionary brings us today’s reading to expand our understanding of Jesus’s call and the disciples’ response.  According to Luke, that transformation from fisherman to disciple didn’t happen all-at-once.  It took the better part of a day and required some persistent effort on the part of the Lord.

Peter and his friends had been out on the lake at night and into the early morning hours, casting their drag nets in the hope of an abundant catch.  In Peter’s day, fishing on the Sea of Galilee was strictly monitored.  People like Peter, Andrew, James, and John, whose families had plied these waters for generations, purchased an annual imperial fishing license.  That fee was significant—equivalent to about one-third of their average annual catch.  A series of fishless nights, like the one they had just had, meant hardship for hard-working people like Simon Peter.

The men were mending their nets and dreaming of breakfast and a nap, when Jesus came along.  Last week, Jesus may have been preaching in the backwater of Nazareth, but this week, Jesus was followed by a large crowd.  There was so much pushing, jostling, and vying for position that preaching from the lakeshore was proving to be hazardous.  A boat was needed to push out into the shallows where Jesus could safely preach while the multitude took a seat along the breakwater.

That’s where Simon Peter came in.  Just the other week, Jesus had impressed Peter by healing his mother-in-law.  Despite that, we can imagine the inner struggle as Simon Peter weighed committing his day and his boat to Jesus against heading home for some much-needed rest.  Perhaps feeling like he was doing Rabbi Jesus a favor, the fisherman invited Jesus onboard.

That back-and-forth of request and response continued.  As Jesus finished his preaching and dispersed the crowd, he made a second, questionable request of Simon Peter.  “Put out into deep water and let down your nets.”  In Peter’s response, we hear exasperation.  Who was the expert on fishing?  It wasn’t Jesus.  In fact, the Lord had a lot of nerve, expecting Peter to gather his crew, load his nets, and row halfway across the lake.  This time when Peter complied, he made it clear that he was half-heartedly following orders, simply out of respect for Jesus as a rabbi.

It wasn’t until Peter was standing knee-deep in a miraculous haul of fish that he changed his mind about Jesus and decided that the Lord was worth following.  That improbable catch confounded every law of nature on the Sea of Galilee.  All those fish in that place at that time of day made it clear to the fishermen that God Almighty was in their midst and in need of their service.  The third time was the charm.

This story with its growing awareness of who Jesus is and the claim that he has upon our lives feels authentic.  It definitely feels more in keeping with our own faith journeys than that spectacular, all-at-once, wholehearted commitment that Matthew and Mark described the disciples making.  Most of us aren’t pastors or missionaries, who quickly discern the call to walk away from what is comfortable and familiar to live a radical life of discipleship.  For most of us, our calling takes time—and persistence on the part of the Lord.

Our journey to discipleship often begins at the initiative of someone else.  As infants, our parents or grandparents make the choice for Jesus for us and we are baptized or dedicated.  All we have to do is look cute and not put up too much fuss when the water starts to fly.  Our family, congregation, and pastor make the promises for us.  We may be placed on the way to Jesus as little ones, but we are no disciples.

A second calling to obedience and discipleship may come our way at confirmation.  With the pastor, our mentor, and our classmates, we read scripture, ponder what it would mean for us to be followers of Jesus, and even begin to wrap our own language around our faith.  But that doesn’t make us disciples.  Indeed, according to the statisticians at Lifeway Research, 66% of young people between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two will drop out of church.  Relocation, college, or the increasing demands of the workplace cause them to lose their connection to the church and the community that formed their faith.

Sometimes, like Peter, we need to be knee-deep in a miracle before we will make Jesus our priority.  Do any of these quiet miracles sound familiar?

We find the blessing of love and we realize that, if that love is going to last, we will need God at the very heart of the relationship.  We know we need the Lord.

Our first child is born and in the wonder of that perfect little life entrusted to our care, we dedicate ourselves to the Lord.

We are broken by grief, illness, or hardship, and Jesus touches us with grace and strength that bring us on through and we want more of that.

We see ourselves as we truly are, unclean lips and all.  Yet as we break the bread and lift the cup, we learn that the Lord loves us enough to die for us and we are truly forgiven. We come to the Lord in humility and gratitude.

One day, knee-deep in those everyday wonders, we hitched our wagon to Jesus, and we’ve been following him along the Way ever since.  When did you choose to truly follow Jesus?

We may not leave everything behind—family, community, and possessions—to follow Jesus, but our choice for discipleship changes us.  Jesus takes a central place in our lives.  He shapes what we do on Sunday mornings.  He directs the way we relate to our families.  He determines how we conduct ourselves in the community.  Our behavior changes.  We dare to forgive as we have been forgiven.  We stop attaching strings to our love.  We begin to notice at-risk neighbors and we seek to make a caring difference.  We start to hunger for worship, prayer, the Word, and Christian fellowship.

One day, we realize that Jesus has done it.  We have become his disciples.  The Lord has worn us down with that back and forth, call and response, that he once shared with Simon Peter, all those years ago on the shores of Galilee.  Thanks be to God for that slow call to discipleship and the Lord’s patience with people like Simon Peter, with people like us.  Amen.

Resources:

Gay L. Byron. “Exegetical Perspective on Luke 4:21-30” in Feasting on the Word, Year C. vol. 1.  Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009.

Aaron Earls. “Most Teenagers Drop Out of Church When They Become Young Adults” in Lifeway Research, January 15, 2019. Accessed online at lifewayresearch.com.

Howard K. Gregory. “Pastoral Perspective on Luke 4:21-30” in Feasting on the Word, Year C. vol. 1.  Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009.


Luke 5:1-11

As the crowd was pressing in on Jesus to hear God’s word, He was standing by Lake Gennesaret. 2 He saw two boats at the edge of the lake; the fishermen had left them and were washing their nets. 3 He got into one of the boats, which belonged to Simon, and asked him to put out a little from the land. Then He sat down and was teaching the crowds from the boat. 4 When He had finished speaking, He said to Simon, “Put out into deep water and let down[c] your nets for a catch.” 5 “Master,” Simon replied, “we’ve worked hard all night long and caught nothing! But at Your word, I’ll let down the nets.” 6 When they did this, they caught a great number of fish, and their nets[e] began to tear. 7 So they signaled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them; they came and filled both boats so full that they began to sink. 8 When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, “Go away from me, because I’m a sinful man, Lord!” 9 For he and all those with him were amazed at the catch of fish they took, 10 and so were James and John, Zebedee’s sons, who were Simon’s partners. “Don’t be afraid,” Jesus told Simon. “From now on you will be catching people!” 11 Then they brought the boats to land, left everything, and followed Him.


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