Sermon for January 21, 2018

How Far Would You Go?

1 Samuel 17

I had a sermon all ready to go today. It was a NICE sermon. You would have felt really good about it. Really inspired. I was going to ask you to think about the Goliaths in your life – you know, the immense, giant obstacles that seem unbeatable and impossible to defeat -- the huge problem that just might be your undoing. Sooner or later all of us must face the giant. Maybe it is a giant sickness that threatens life, or a giant wound that festers in a broken heart. Maybe it’s a giant wedge in a relationship that keeps you trapped in lonely silence. Maybe it’s a giant amount of work that stands between you and your dreams, or a giant injustice you have been avoiding. I was going to ask you: How do you respond? I wanted to ask whether you are planning on letting Goliath win, or are you going to take a stand? I was going to ask you how far you would go when called to take on a giant.

Goliath was the “secret weapon” of the Philistine army- a nine-foot nine inch, fearsome gargantuan who taunted the army of King Saul. There wasn’t a soldier in the camp who wanted to take on Goliath.

Goliath stood and bellowed to the ranks of Israel, “Why bother using your whole army? Am I not Philistine enough for you? And you’re all committed to Saul, aren’t you? So, pick your best fighter and pit him against me. If he gets the upper hand and kills me, the Philistines will all become your slaves. But if I get the upper hand and kill him, you’ll all become our slaves and serve us. I challenge the troops of Israel this day. Give me a man. Let us fight it out together!” When Saul and his troops heard the Philistine's challenge, they were terrified and lost all hope.

After hearing these threats, an adolescent shepherd boy named David looked around and asked, “Who is this person who is insulting the armies of God?” David wasn’t afraid of the Philistine giant.

King Saul sent for David and this is the conversation they had:

David said to Saul, “Don’t give up hope, King. I’m ready to go and fight this Philistine.” Saul replied, “You can't go and fight this Philistine. You're too young and inexperienced—and he's been at this fighting business since before you were born.” But David said to Saul, “I've been a shepherd, tending sheep for my father. Whenever a lion or bear came and took a lamb from the flock, I'd go after it, knock it down, and rescue the lamb. If it turned on me, I'd grab it by the throat, wring its neck, and kill it. Lion or bear, it made no difference—I killed it. And I'll do the same to this Philistine who is taunting the troops of the Lord, God, who delivered me from the teeth of the lion and the claws of the bear, will deliver me from this Philistine.” Saul said to David, “Go, and the Lord be with you” (1 Samuel 17:32-37).

Instead of putting on armor and a sword, David chose to dress casually, carrying only a sling in his hand, with five smooth stones that he collected from the stream. With no weapon and no armor, David was ready to win this battle for God.

Listen to what David said when he confronted Goliath:

“You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the LORD Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the LORD will hand you over to me, and I’ll strike you down. Today I will serve up the carcasses of the Philistine army to the crows and coyotes, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel. All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the LORD saves; for the battle is the LORD’s, and God will give all of you into our hands” (vs. 45-47).

David took out a stone, and slung it and it struck Goliath on the forehead and killed him. The young, weak boy defeated his Goliath.

I was going to ask you to think about the five, smooth stones God has given you to face the giants. Because no matter what we may be facing, our problems can be solved by using the tools God gives is defeat giants I was going to ask you how far you would go when called to take on a giant. … until I read the last line of the passage I’m preaching today. Do you know how far David goes to defeat Goliath? The Bible says, “David triumphed over the Philistine with only a sling and a stone, for he had no sword. Then David ran over and pulled Goliath’s sword from its sheath. David used it to kill him and cut off his head.”

And now, I can’t preach that sermon I wanted to, because the story I learned as a kid … the one about the unlikely boy who topples giants, just turned ugly. Our scripture says, “David then displayed Goliath's head in Jerusalem, brandished it before King Saul, and kept his sword in his tent as a souvenir.” Think of those ISIS videos of beheaded hostages. They use decapitation to traumatize and terrorize the enemy. And it works. It is meant to be a public spectacle for those who download replays of the horrifying act on the internet. Decapitation is also a sacrament of civil religion -- a way of making violence holy. The beloved story of David and Goliath is actually a text of terror, and now I’m not sure how to hear God’s voice in this story.

This is not the only terrifying text in Scripture. Read the Bible closely and we read stories endorse using torture against captives (2 Samuel 12:26-31), legal rape of female prisoners of war (Numbers 31:1-18; Deuteronomy 21:11-14), slavery (Deuteronomy 23:15-16, Colossians 4:1), and transferring punishment of sin from the guilty to the innocent (Gen. 3:5-6, Genesis 6:5-13; Leviticus 16:8-34). Our Christian Scriptures are not exempt. In a world where there are those who read texts of terror and commit acts of terror in their name, we need to be explicit about how we handle these passages of Scripture.

You may think I’m being over sensitive here. Why not just take the story of David and Goliath and make it a spiritual story about overcoming the odds? Well, I think that’s a dangerous approach. When take stories about violent heroes and turn them into morality tales about fighting evil, we must be careful. I read a story about a dad watching his sons, ages 7 and 6, play Rock, Paper, Scissors. The dad introduced a new element into the game -- dynamite. Dynamite is made just like the rock, only you lift your thumb to create the fuse. Dynamite utterly destroys rock, paper, and scissors. In response, the oldest boy came up with an ever more destructive weapon – God. After a few rounds of the game, he activated the omnipotent God weapon. “Rock, paper, scissors … GOD!” he yelled. Then he lifted both hands in the air and violently threw them down with the thunderous sound of hell-fire and brimstone on top of his younger brother.

God. The Destroyer.

I know it’s just a game, but I spend a lot of time trying to teach children that God isn’t like that. When we spiritualize violence, we sanction it. The stories we tell begin to justify our actions. We teach that it’s OK to obliterate our enemies with overwhelming, brutal force. For me, as we continue to face the fears of living in a nuclear era, the thought of bombing and being bombed is a horrifying and immature response. It’s up to us to find different stories, and metaphors to talk about conflict, other than battle, killing, and victory.

Is religion dangerous? Do we need to edit our Bibles and eliminate texts of terror? Let’s just get to the point. Religion is not bad. Religion is not evil. Religion is not dangerous. However, people can be bad, evil and dangerous. They can use religion to support what they want to do. Any Muslim who cites the Qur’an or Hadith to support their view that Islam should forcibly convert the world to Islam, stands in direct opposition to every scholarly tradition of Islam. The term jihad, which means “striving”, is primarily meant to mean the heart’s striving to obey God. Jihad as violent force is a secondary meaning. Most Muslim scholars say that violent jihad is confined to the defense of Islam against unjust attack.

Any Jewish leadeer who calls for the conquest of Palestine forgets that the command to take care of foreigners who live in the Holy Land far outweighs any texts conquest and security. I do not hear the voice of God when Jewish leaders quote scripture to justify Palestinian oppression.

I also refuse to listen for God’s voice from Christian leaders who uses Scripture to justify mistreatment of the LGBTQ community, or who uses the Bible to justify the subjugation of women. I refuse to listen for God’s voice when preachers use the Bible to baptize their bigotry. When I look at the human violence of the cross, I’m inspired to stand for freedom and to come alongside victims of oppression. But we remember times when the cross has been twisted into a swastika -- a weapon. The icon of redemption can become an instrument of terror in the hands of bad theology. It’s why I don’t want us spiritualizing violence. Bad theology is not just dangerous. Bad theology can kill.

Of course, we have violent texts that are used by those who are filled with rage and hatred. By selectively choosing certain texts that support their aims, evil people choose hatred and intolerance over debate and dialogue. Religion does not cause intolerance. I think it’s quite the opposite. Intolerance uses religion to give alleged “moral support” to hatred.

We need to learn the warning signs that religion has become evil and evil has become religious. Here are some warning signs:

• Fanatical claims of absolute truth. This includes: Blind obedience to totalitarian, charismatic, and authoritarian leaders or their views that undermines moral integrity, personal freedom, individual responsibility, and intellectual inquiry.
• Identifying and rationalizing “end times” scenarios in the name of religion.
• Any and all forms of dehumanization, including demonizing those who differ from you, construing your neighbor as an Other, and claiming that God is on your side alone.

Sacred terror is almost always complex and bound up with other causes. But at the end of the day, we must admit that there is far too much violence in the world that is justified with a specifically religious rationale. We should commit ourselves to do whatever we can to stop it.

From where I am looking today – religious-sanctioned violence is the giant we must defeat. Most people prefer a sword and spear and javelin to words. Today, we declare that we resist giants not with the sword, but with the five smooth stones:

non-violent resistance,

peaceable protest,

speaking truth to power,

diplomacy, and

restorative justice.

How far will you go? How far will you go to hold each other accountable? How far will you go when our own religions dehumanize and marginalize others? How far will you go, in the name of religion, certain groups are targeted for exclusion? How far will you go when the governments suppress religious activity through harassment or detention? How far will you to go dialogue and explore our differences, respectfully and courageously? How far will you go to pray -- pray that we will be people of peace -- pray and work for a loving, compassionate, just and generous world in which religion brings out the best of who we are, not the worst?

We come together at places like CCC to deepen our spiritual lives and to increase our understanding and our compassion. This work forms us. It helps us to be healthier and more whole people. And it equips and inspires us to do the daily work of building a better world.

Sources:

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/teachingnonviolentatonement/2014/08/rock-paper-scissors-god-children-and-a-nonviolent-reading-of-the-bible/

https://www.journeywithjesus.net/Essays/20060619JJ.shtml

http://religionnews.com/2017/08/28/twisting-the-cross-the-deadly-theology-of-white-supremacy/

Is Religion Dangerous by Keith Ward

Sermon for January 14, 2018

Justice Without Corruption

Then Samuel addressed all Israel: “I have done as you asked and given you a king. Your king is now your leader. I stand here before you—an old, gray-haired man—and my sons serve you. I have served as your leader from the time I was a boy to this very day. Now testify against me in the presence of the Lord and before his anointed one. Whose ox or donkey have I stolen? Have I ever cheated any of you? Have I ever oppressed you? Have I ever taken a bribe and perverted justice? Tell me and I will make right whatever I have done wrong.”

“No,” they replied, “you have never cheated or oppressed us, and you have never taken even a single bribe.”

“The Lord and his anointed one are my witnesses today,” Samuel declared, “that my hands are clean.”

“Yes, he is a witness,” they replied.

“It was the Lord who appointed Moses and Aaron,” Samuel continued. “He brought your ancestors out of the land of Egypt. Now stand here quietly before the Lord as I remind you of all the great things the Lord has done for you and your ancestors.

1 Samuel 12:1-7

They want a king. The people of Israel – they want a king, so they can be like the other nations. In the beginning chapters of the book of 1 Samuel, the leader of the people of Israel is a judge named Samuel. He’s not a monarch. Samuel is known a charismatic and wise leader who hears from God clearly and can communicate God’s will to this loose confederation of cranky tribes known as Israel. The people don’t want Samuel’s sons to take over, now that that Samuel is getting old. The elders of Israel think Samuel sons are corrupt. The do not want the sons of prophets to lead. They want a king.

It’s not just about being like the other guys. At one point, the people cry, “We want our king to go out before us and fight our battles.” In other words, “We have enemies who want to destroy us. They have attacked us before. We are afraid and we need a tough national security strategy. We want a king. We want a military. We want them to protect us.”

God does not want Israel to appoint a king. Even though God expresses feeling rejected by the choice, God does not stand in the way. The people need to understand the consequences of their choices. God will not force them to trust. It’s remarkable, really. God finds them a king – a man named Saul. In our first readings, Samuel anoints Saul with oil as a recognition of his new title. Israel will have a King. And then, as Samuel give up his position, Samuel gives a blistering sermon that reminds the people what a king will do to them. He says, “You want a King who will fight your battles for you? King’s don’t do that. King’s take. They take your resources to enrich themselves. Kings take your children and order them to fight. Kings take your resources and force you to make weapons with your farm equipment. Are you ready to pay the price? Consider what you are asking. Kings take, take and take. God asks. With God we always have a choice. Kings demand allegiance. God requests our faith. Kings enforce laws. God enfolds us with love.”

In the reading from 1 Samuel 12, Samuel, in his old age, defends his term as the last Judge of Israel. He asks, “Have I ever cheated any of you? Have I ever oppressed you? Have I ever taken a bribe and perverted justice? Tell me and I will make right whatever I have done wrong.” The people confess he has been upright and good. Samuel is the kind of leader I want to be and the kind of leader I want to follow. Samuel has clarity about his God-given life purpose and goals. He does not become confused or lost in the swirling emotions of others. Samuel can connect to the hearts of other people by respecting them, engaging with them in healthy debate, loving them, honoring their strengths and bolstering their weaknesses. Instead of making people adhere to rules and policies, he values relationships. Instead of trying to control behavior of others, Samuel is led by an inner sense of what God is saying and encourages others to hear God for themselves as well.

Samuel knows that if the diverse and disunified tribes of Israel want to have peace, they need to make security decisions based on something other than fear. If they want to be taken seriously by their enemies, then their foreign policy must represent the aims of God, which have the best interests of all the people in mind. Foreign policy is not just tied into military affairs, it is directly connected to economics. Will Israel succeed if it a society where a small number of extraordinarily powerful and wealthy special interests exert enormous influence over the survival of the people?

Well, as I said, Israel gets its King – the man named Saul.  Saul represents what could have been but was not. Saul has some good points. He starts out as a dedicated and thoughtful king who defends Israel from its enemies. But as his fame increased, so did his delusion of grandeur. In the end, Saul refuses to obey God because he’s afraid of public opinion – worried about the consequences to his reputation when God asks him to go to war.

Saul’s style of leadership was so different from Samuel’s. Saul wanted people to like him. On top of that, Saul was an insecure and jealous king, to the point of paranoia. He saw traitors everywhere. Many of you know about David, of David and Goliath fame. David will eventually become King. Before his coronation, David was Saul’s aid, confidante, and son-in-law. Saul slandered David, assumed the worst of motives, and eventually made him a blood-enemy. No matter how many times David reconciled with him, Saul’s insecurity and paranoia gnawed at him. Saul became obsessed not by the true enemies of the people of Israel, but by spending his energy on palace intrigue and aggressive revenge, instead of governing and defending the people.

When I think about the times we live in, and the decisions we make when we feel afraid and insecure, I think the dominant expression – the main way we express our fear – is through aggression. In times of crisis, we turn to hostility as the only alternative for dealing with conflict. Consider some of the language we use around problem solving. We attack the problem, tackle the issue, take a stab at it, wrestle it to the ground, and get on top of it. If colleagues argue with us, we complain that they shot down our idea, took pot shots, used us for target practice, or killed us. Facing opposition, we back down, retreat, or regroup. Because aggression is so ingrained in us as a response, we can easily experience it as a positive attribute. Parents and cheerleaders scream from the sidelines of school sports events, “Be aggressive!" Supervisors reward managers for aggressive timelines and plans. Dictionaries define “aggressive” as hostile action, but also positively as assertive, bold, and enterprising. These combative descriptions of relationships and problem-solving point to a startling conclusion: We experience challenges as war zones, we view competing ideas as enemies, and we use problems as weapons to blame and defeat opposition forces

If we want peace, then we need to lead from a different emotional response than fear through aggression. I think we need mercy. Showing mercy can become a way to disengage from the current culture of aggression with a new way of being. We have all done things we regret. Aggressive things. Violent things. We have all had times when we wish we could go back in time and do something over again. The truth is, we all want mercy. But mercy is not given just so we can feel better. Mercy is not pity. God offers mercy as a way for us to restore our relationships. God offers mercy so that we can extend mercy to others.

We must find the means to work and live together with non-aggressive strategies if we are to resolve the serious problems that afflict us. As we become more aware of how the habits of aggression affect our actions, we realize behaviors that support violence; programs that have outlived their usefulness; and policies that don’t work as intended – it’s time for them to be replaced. We can dismantle our outdated, violent ways, we can establish habits of mercy.

Do you remember what Jesus said about mercy? Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy (Matthew 5:7) Jesus did not say, “Blessed are those who are shown mercy, for they will be merciful.” In other words, Jesus does not say you get mercy and then you give it. Mercy is the primary intentional act. You are blessed for being a person who commits compassion. You get mercy once you give mercy. We must lessen our aggressiveness and increase our compassion, just as our God so often does with us. We give mercy. Then we receive mercy.

One of my majors in College was English. I ended up taking many classes with the Chair of the English Department. Dr. Peters was a large, pompous man who regularly intimidated students. He impressed fear into everyone. His authority came from his title, his position, and his ability to scare his students half to death. In a literature course on the age of classicism, Dr. Peters would bellow out, “Braddock, what, according to Alexander Pope, is the requirement for being a British magistrate?” He would scowl at me as I sat in stunned silence. “Well, Braddock, what’s your answer?” I would finally stammer out a made-up answer. “I think Pope says if a man wants to be a magistrate, he has to have a wife who sells Tupperware.” Dr. Peters would shake his head and look at me in disgust before moving on to the next victim.

I was also a teaching assistant for another English professor, Dr. Paul. One afternoon he handed me a stack of papers to grade. As I went though the pile of freshmen English journals, I was disgusted by how poor the work was. Each passing paper was worse than the one before it, and the marks I gave reflected my loathing for their pasty writing. I delivered the graded papers back to the Dr. Paul, shaking my head in repugnance. The next day I went to his office, and he had a stack of papers for me to look through. They were actually the journals I had corrected the day before. Dr. Paul had gone through and changed all of the grades to higher marks. When I asked him about it, all he did was quote an OT prophet: “Matt, in wrath, remember mercy.” That lesson has stayed with me. There is no doubt in my mind why Dr. Paul had a very devoted band of students on campus. Dr. Peter’s authority was fed by the fear of his students. Dr. Paul’s authority was rooted in mercy.

The same should be true with people of faith. If we want to claim the authority to confront unjust systems and oppressive ideologies, if we seek to replace paranoid and fear-driving creeds with inclusivity and love, then our behavior must be established by mercy. This weekend, as we commemorate the life and message of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., we have become ever more aware of the challenges we face as a people to bear witness to God’s mercy and justice in the world. A society that fails in mercy will soon find that it is unable to fight for better working conditions, for the rights of workers, for immigrants, or for the poor. Such a society will find that what is considered fair, what is consider a right, or what is considered an act of mercy will be determined by the small number of powerful and wealthy special interests. It is time for faith communities to reject this ends-justifies-the-means approaches to leadership. We have a role in deconstructing the culture of aggression, and we do it by showing our communities what it looks like to give mercy before receiving mercy.

Saul suffered from moral madness, and that the power he wielded as king of Israel made his paranoia unspeakably frightening. Saul demonstrated no inclination to listen to reason. His suspicious accusations of betrayal and conspiracy grew in range and intensity. His delusions of grandeur swelled with each passing event. And Saul distanced himself from God. Israel could not sustain a materialistic leader who distanced himself from his faith tradition and ignored the belief that God’s world is not soiled but sacred … All of creation is not soiled but sacred … Nations are not soiled. Nations are sacred … People are not soiled. People are sacred.

Saul’s destructive lunacy eventually threw Israel into a civil war. Israel’s enemies, sensing the instability caused by Saul’s weakness, seized the opportunity to invade. Saul died in battle, and his death finally rid Israel of its crazy king – the king they wanted in the first place. Saul nearly destroyed the nation. Like all kings who go morally mad, Saul arrogantly believed himself to be the center of gravity when he was actually the epicenter of disaster.

It’s a good thing Samuel stuck around for a while after turning over Israel’s leadership to Saul. Saul needed a prophet to call him out, to remind him that he was not God, and to urge him either to repent or step down before he brought disaster upon the nation. Someone had to be resist the king’s madness.

In our age of warring aggression, with the fear we have of a nation marching toward madness, may the prophets arise. God give us prophets who show us how to resist. God give us prophets who teach us how to lead. God give us prophets who lead through mercy instead of aggression. God give us prophets who help mend the fabric of our society by weaving a seamless garment of mercy and compassion. God give us prophets who denounce the powers that oppress. God give us prophets who they bring us back to the heart of compassion.

Sources:

https://medium.com/@cainseth/trump-king-saul-for-a-new-generation-6fd58f9051c7

http://floydandsally.com/blog/2012/03/31/samuel-style-leadership-versus-the-saul-style-of-autocratic-leadership

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/the-madness-of-kings-the-need-for-prophets-and-trump_us_58a59a35e4b0fa149f9ac213

https://rethinkingnationalsecurity.com/tag/peacemaking/

Sermon for January 7, 2018

Samuel the Listener

People often ask me how I got into ministry. How did I know? The question usually comes from new encounters at dinner parties. When guests find out I’m a minister, they start trying to figure it out – at least those who don’t avoid me. Being a minister is a familiar but uncommon occupation, after all. You’d think I’d have a pat answer by now, but the question still makes me stumble. How did I know? Well . . . I just knew. I’ve known since I was 12 years old. Picture a serious, 12-year old boy who hears the voice of God and begins asking for the complete 18 volume set of John Calvin’s Commentaries on the Bible for Christmas so that he can get an early start on his clerical studies; a boy staying up late and reading theology by flashlight long after his parents have told him to turn out the lights and go to sleep; a boy so caught up in the bliss of biblical studies, he cannot focus on world geography and mathematics. Got the picture? Well, that wasn’t me. I was a loud-mouthed, 12-year-old who teased others relentlessly, watched Three’s Company and the Love Boat faithfully, listened to Toto sing Africa endlessly, and did not have much interest in reading anything but Spiderman comics. I was an average kid and an average student living in an average American household. That’s the kid God called into ministry. As I grew, I tried on different ideas for occupations. By my college years, I talked myself into training to be a High School English teacher. But I could not shake the call to be a pastor.

I was ordained to ministry 20 years ago in 1997. It was a big worship service, concluding with me kneeling in front of the sanctuary as 15 or so ministers gathered around me. They were liberal and conservative; Black, White and Asian; male and female; younger and older. The ministers touched my head and shoulders, and prayed, and conferred the time-honored tradition of ordained ministry through the laying on of hands. Since then, I have enjoyed privileges and challenges that many others do not – I have baptized and confirmed my children. I’ve been at bedsides as people take their final breaths. I have presided over funerals that have broken the heart of the community. I have more crazy wedding stories than I should. I get to listen to people’s greatest joys and fears. Being a minister comes with a lot of enjoyment and a lot of heartache. It comes with the territory of partnering with people as we learn to become more compassionate, just, and peaceful. For me, it all began that first time I sensed God saying, “Whom should I send as a messenger to this people?” – the first time I said, “Yes, God, I am here … Speak, for your servant is listening.”?

Do you remember the first time you sensed God calling you?  Because you are a minister too! In the United Church of Christ, we believe God calls each one of us to build a more compassionate, just, and peaceful world. It doesn’t take a seminary degree or an ordination service. Everyone gets to build God’s world. Sometimes that process seems very clear and understandable. Sometimes it seems almost impossible to understand what God wants from us. But make no mistake, in some way or another, God calls each of us. Are you listening?

“Here I am.” In Hebrew it’s just one word: Hineni. We hear it a few times in the Bible. Like in the book of Genesis when God gets the attention of someone by calling out his name: “Abraham.” And Abraham says, “Hineni. I’m here. I’m ready.” There’s no surprise, no hesitation. God speaks, and Abraham responds as if the two of them were just sitting side by side, each fully present to the other. We hear the same phrase in the book Exodus. Remember the story of God speaking to Moses from a burning bush? God calls out, “Moses, Moses.” And Moses says “Hineni. I’m here. I’m ready.” Imagine what it must be like to be so at peace that when God’s calls you by name from a flaming shrub, your first response is, “Hineni. I’m here. I’m ready.”

We hear the phrase in the story of the commissioning of the Prophet Isaiah. Isaiah is probably in the Jewish temple at prayer. In a mystical moment, the Temple is filled with God’s presence, complete with a retinue of angelic creatures who flank God and sing praises. Isaiah falls apart. He knows he is not holy or wholesome enough to see God in all of God’s glory and live to tell about it. One of the angelic creatures takes a hot coal off the Temple’s incense altar and touches it to Isaiah’s lips as a kind of cleansing ritual. Then God speaks. “Whom should I send as a messenger to this people? Who will go for us?” Isaiah has an instant response. Hineni. “Here I am. Send me.”

Hineni. Each time this word is used, it is a pivotal moment. It’s as if God says. “Listen! Pay attention! Something pivotal is about to happen! Something is about to change, but only if you can open yourself up.” If we are here in the moment, if we are open and receptive, then we can begin to see the hand of the Eternal all about us. “Hineni. Yes. God, I am here. Speak for your servant is listening.” Our response opens us to the power of a sacred, imminent encounter with a new reality.

Hineni. We heard it in our readings today from 1 Samuel. Israel relied on prophets to hear and interpret God’s will for the people. But hearing from God was rare in the generations after Moses died, when judges led Israel. Visions were infrequent. Silence is a form of divine judgment, but God finally breaks the silence by calling out to a boy – an apprentice to the Temple priest who sleeps by the Ark of the Covenant, that famous gilded box that holds the law of Moses.

According to the religious hierarchies of the day, the High Priest and his sons are the ones who should hear God speak. They are the authorities. They are the ultimate insiders by birth and by vocation. Instead, God chooses Samuel. A child. A boy on the periphery. One who is not bound by the political interests of his elders. A child who can hear an unfamiliar voice with an uncomfortable message that will overturn the political and religious traditions knows best. “Hear I am. Speak, for your servant is listening.”

To say, “Here I am,” is one of the most important things we can say to God. It’s also one of the most important things we can say to each other. I think we are losing the ability to be present and receptive to others. It’s getting worse in our society because of our electronic distractions—our smart phones, our tablets, our laptops, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, other social media. We can be so plugged in that we are tuning out. Fear of missing out, paradoxically, makes us miss out on what is going on right in front of us. It’s hard for me to admit, but I’ve noticed it in myself. Just one more e-mail and I’ll listen. Let me answer this text while we talk. I even find it hard to watch television without having some other device by my side. You know what I’m not doing as much? I’m not playing games with my kids to taking out my guitar and singing. I’m not talking to my wife about how our days went as much as I need to be. It is not what I hope for and expect from myself. I’m not as hineni as I need to be – not as fully present and receptive to others. I can’t be alone in this. Too many of us are telling ourselves we are multi-tasking, when the fact of the matter is, we are distracted, not paying enough attention to anything. We are becoming less present for others; less hineni.

So how about it? What can you say "yes" to? Can you say Yes to God? To others? To yourself? When have you be able to answer God's call with "Hineni. Here am I. I am ready. Speak, God, for your servant is listening”?

Listen closely, because God calls us by name. Listen, because it may be a still small voice. It may be a soft, steady heartbeat in the turmoil of daily events. It is there. When you hear it, know that you are experiencing a moment of grace. It may be God commissioning you to be part of our commitment to justice, freedom and love. God knows you. God knows us. God calls us. Our response? Well, that’s our chance to be hineni – fully present to God and one another. Here we are. Speak to us. We are listening.