Samuel Goldwyn, the famous movie mogul who was half of Metro Goldwyn Meyer, was once criticized for not being more socially conscious in his movies, that he produced entertainment without any redeeming social importance. He replied, “If you want to send a message, use Western Union.” And he had a point. A movie or a book or a painting that self-consciously sets out to “send a message” is usually not anywhere near as interesting as one that just tries to tell a story in a meaningful and engaging way.
But even if he wasn’t trying to send a particular message with his movies, messages still came across loud and clear anyway. Ben Shahn, a 20th century American painter and writer, wrote a book called The Shape of Content, which I had to read for a class on aesthetics, or the philosophy of art. He talked about the fact that no matter what you actually say, no matter what you think you are trying to say, what comes across is often a lot more than you intended.
For instance, you can say, “I love you,” in a dozen different ways. Maybe more. How many can you think of? There’s the “I love you” that’s accompanied by a dozen roses and an evening out; there’s the “Of course I love you,” tossed over the shoulder while checking the TV guide for that evening’s kickoff time. There’s the “I love you” to the teenager going off to college, and the “I love you” to the child you’ve just had to ground for a week. The words are the same, but the message is different each time.
So you see, the words alone aren't enough. We have to see the words play out in context, in action, in character and relationship. We have to watch the story unfold to get to know who is speaking, and why. We have to hear the story to recognize ourselves in it, and to be made ready to respond.
Let me try to explain what I mean: Last week we looked at Abraham’s call and response, and at Matthew’s, and at Peter’s.
This week we’ve read a little bit more about Abraham’s response to God's call, and are looking in more detail at Jesus’ charge to his disciples. These are both “call” stories, and there are differences and similarities between them. Probably the biggest contrast is between the jobs they are being called to. Abraham was called to GO somewhere new, and the twelve disciples were called to DO something new. We really don’t know what Abram was like before God called him. In all likelihood he was a sinner, too - since we all are - but that’s never really an issue with Abraham, is it. His obedience is reckoned to him as righteousness.
But both Peter and Matthew knew they were sinners, because they’ve had it drummed into them by a thousand years of experience with the righteousness of the God of Moses, and by a lifetime of hearing from the Pharisees about all the stuff they have to do in order to be acceptable to God. You may remember that when Peter first realized who Jesus was, he fell at Jesus’ knees and said, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” [Lk 5:8] And of course no one was lower than a tax collector like Matthew.
In the Old Testament call story, Abraham is given a vision of descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and the sand on the shore. In this New Testament call story, Jesus gives his disciples a vision of sheep milling around and a field ready to be harvested. In both cases God is calling them to lift their eyes above their own circumstances, their own visions of their futures.
At this stage in the game, Jesus is keeping his disciples relatively close to home. Their targets are clearly local: “Go nowhere among the Gentiles, and enter no town of the Samaritans, but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” [Mat 10:5-6] Later on, of course, when he gives the Great Commission, Jesus pulls out all the stops, telling the disciples to “Go into all the world.” There’s a good reason for the difference, though. In this first instance it’s a training mission. The disciples are apprentices; they’ve been watching their teacher at work, and now he’s going to let them try their hand with a first-level mission. When Jesus gave the Great Commission, they’ve already graduated. They’ve completed their internships, passed their boards, and received their licenses to practice. They’re ready to be let loose on the world.
But again, in both cases, Jesus gives them what they need to accomplish the task. In the first mission he gives them an example and clear instructions, on the second he gives them a broad mandate and, later, completes their equipping by giving them the Holy Spirit.
There are a lot of other call stories, in both the New Testament and the Old. As we have seen, Abraham is called to pull up stakes and go to a strange, wild country where God will bless him. Moses is called to return to the world he left, a cosmopolitan power center, and effect a spectacular rescue of his fellow countrymen. Isaiah was called to stay put, right where he was, to provide commentary, interpretation and final instructions for his fellow countrymen in Judah while they watched their kinsman country, the Northern Kingdom of Israel, fall to the Assyrian hordes. Jeremiah was called to take up where Isaiah left off, and oversee the fall of Jerusalem itself. And Jesus sends his followers out to inaugurate a new Exodus, a spiritual exodus from slavery to an invisible power.
The parallels between God’s various calls to the Old Testament leaders and Jesus’ call to his disciples are many, there are whole volumes of commentaries written on them. The primary parallel between Abraham’s call and response and the disciples call and response is simply the one of faith and obedience. But there is a clue - both in Genesis and in Galatians - as to God’s motives for both. God promises Abraham that not only will he and his descendants be blessed, but also “All the Gentiles shall be blessed in you.” [Gal 3:8] Moses’ call gives a lot more insight into God’s motives:
"I have also heard the groaning of the Israelites whom the Egyptians are holding as slaves, and I have remembered my covenant. Say therefore to the Israelites, ‘I am YHWH, and I will free you from the burdens of the Egyptians and deliver you from slavery to them. I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgment. I will take you as my people, and I will be your God. You shall know that I am YHWH your God, who has freed you from the burdens of the Egyptians.'" [Ex 6:5-7]
Both of these motivations are echoed in these verses from Matthew’s gospel:
"Then Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and curing every disease and every sickness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd." [Mt 9:35-36]
Did you catch it? YHWH heard his people groaning, and so he delivered them; Jesus had compassion on the harassed and helpless crowds that gathered around him.
Last week we looked at one particular response to God’s call. We’ve looked at what happens to us when we come face to face with the God who calls us; we’ve looked at the changes in us that come when we hear and respond to that call. But today we’re going to look at God. Why does God do what he does? As the Psalmist says, “What is man that you are mindful of him?” [Ps 8:4] What motivates God? It’s been close on 4,000 years since God called Abram out of his comfort zone into Adventureland, and we still haven’t gotten it straight. If you haven't read the book of Genesis recently, I encourage you to do so. It is full of the most amazing stories imaginable: dysfunctional families, murder, incest, rape... “What is man, that you are mindful of him?” But God doesn’t give up. He sends Moses and the law and the covenant, and leads the people back into the promised land. And they should live happily ever after, right? Wrong...
If you think Genesis was full of violence and immorality, try reading the book of Judges. The people got worse. An X rating would be generous. It doesn’t get any better under the kings, either; Isaiah and the other prophets get pretty specific about what God’s covenant people got up to every time they thought he wasn’t paying attention. “What is man, that you are mindful of him?” I wrote a poem about 12 years before I became a Christian asking that very question. It’s my very first poem in sonnet form, so be gentle:
"If God exists, or any deity,
There’s still no reason to expect a kind
Of brooding watchfulness, or yet that He,
Or It, or She, is anything but blind.
The tale is told that Lucifer was sent
From Heav’n for unbelief that foolish Man
Would prove to be successful. So he went
To Hell, from whence he strove to prove God’s plan
A failure. Who can doubt he’s won? And so,
If God’s not dead, He’s surely turned aside,
To watch some other test tube culture grow,
Leaving Earth to commit suicide.
Oh well at least He left the lab to Man:
To burn, defile, or rebuild - if he can.
Well, clearly, I’ve grown a bit in my understanding of God since those days. But the question still remains. Why doesn’t God give up on us? We just keep blowing it, over and over again. And in recent years, we’ve not only ignored God, we’ve started blaming him for our problems. People are always saying - have you noticed? "How can a good God allow..." whatever. Ruanda. Kosovo. The Holocaust. A lot of people asked “Where was God at Littleton?” The answer is, of course, “They don’t allow God in school.”
But God never gives up, does he? He sent judges and prophets and kings and kept bailing his people out of the trouble they had gotten into by refusing to listen. When the time was right, God sent his son. And his son sent the twelve. And the twelve, with the new power of the Holy Spirit, were fruitful, and multiplied. And yet we still blow it. And God keeps calling and sending men and women to go, to speak, to heal, to free. And every time it is for the same reason: God hears the groaning of his people, and is moved to compassion.
There’s another important thing to note about God in all of these call stories: God always chooses a person to be his messenger. He may send an angel or voices or a vision to equip a person for a special task, but most of the time he speaks to his creation through his creatures. Most of us will hear God’s voice most clearly, and see his face most plainly, through another person, or within the body of Christ. Why does God do that?
It is because God doesn’t force, God doesn’t coerce. God doesn’t use his superior strength to cow us into reluctant obedience. The Lord of Hosts could, of course, overawe all creation and force us to our knees with a single wave of his hand, but instead he woos us gently. God’s voice is not in the earthquake, not in the fire, not in the storm. Instead, he uses the still, small voice that comforted Elijah in the desert.
So what do we learn when we direct our attention away from ourselves and our response to God’s call, and instead focus our attention on the God who calls us?
We’ve learned that God’s message may be “Go,” or it may be “Stay,” depending on the task, but it is always a message of love.
We have learned that God answers when his people are in trouble and in pain.
We’ve learned that God never gives up.
We’ve also learned that God doesn’t work alone.
Our God is the father who grants his son half of all he owns, and watches him go off into the world, knowing he will waste the gift and nearly destroy himself, and is still ready to welcome him home. Our God is also the shepherd who goes out himself to find the lost ones. But he is also the God who enlists the entire community to search for the captives, just as Salt Lake City turned out to search for Elizabeth Smart.
There are a lot of missing children in the news right now, not only Elizabeth Smart. There’s also little 5-year old Rilya Wilson, lost from Florida’s foster care system and probably dead; there are the many American girl-children held against their will in Saudi Arabia - finally Congress is holding hearings; there is the 19-month-old Kelly baby, the youngest of 13, forgotten in the van on a hot day. One thing all of these cases have in common is that it takes all of us to make a difference. It can’t be left to the professionals; the Chandra Levy story tells us that the professionals can’t get do it by themselves - even when they want to, even when they’re trained - and how much less when so many are hardly even trying?
Just as important to God are the ones that never make it into the papers because the world doesn’t know that they’re missing; the world doesn’t know that they’re lost. Only God knows who they are, and he has enlisted us in the search. And that tells us not only that the lost ones matter, but we too, who have already been found, we also matter. What we do matters to God, and what we do matters to the world.
And we have also learned that even though all of us feel inadequate when faced with the magnitude of the task God calls us to, God always provides whatever is needed to get the job accomplished. And yet we sit on our hands, saying with Moses, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh?" or with Jeremiah, "I am too young; I do not know how to speak.” Let's face it: no one is worthy, no one is adequate - unless God wills it. And it won’t be done unless we do it. God’s promise of rescue and restoration can only come true if we turn out when he calls.
God chooses to work through people, weak and sinful as we may be, to be the finders of the lost, the bearers of his message, the search party to find and redeem the lost ones, the captives, the hostages. We’re it, folks. And time’s a-wasting.
