3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time January 22, 2021
Dr. Susan Fleming McGurgan
What are you looking for?
That seemingly innocuous question;
that invitation to, “Come and you will see”
was actually a call so compelling
that two fishermen dropped their nets
and walked away from everything they had known.
Simon and Andrew,
and later John and James and Matthew and Phillip and Thomas and Judas…
were ordinary men
whose lives had unfolded
uneventfully,
unremarkably,
unexceptionally.
Yet, suddenly, and without warning,
these ordinary men began to live
unexpectedly.
Andrew, for instance, followed a stranger home
and stayed with him until late in the day.
Later, brought his brother Simon, and together,
they left their business,
their boats,
their families, friends, and neighbors.
They set aside the safety of routine
and stepped out in faith
risking everything to follow a stranger’s call.
It makes you wonder, doesn’t it?
It makes me wonder
just what kind of explosive, risky, compelling, life-changing, extraordinary
encounter
might be waiting around the corner for me.
It makes me wonder if I always play it just a little too safe.
What are you looking for?
It is tempting to read the Gospel stories
as something that only happened long ago and far away--
an event in time for very special people
under very special circumstances.
That call was dramatic and compelling, yes--
something to honor and revere, yes--
but from a safe distance
and with a disclaimer or two.
(Not valid in certain states. Consult your doctor before taking any new medication. Information is provided “as is” without warranty of any kind.)
But here’s the thing about the Gospel…
it just won’t remain anchored in the past.
It can't be safely contained.
The words won’t stay tamely on the page.
The Gospel isn’t just a book we take off the shelf
or simply a nice story we proclaim in Church.
No, the Good News is an up-close and personal, completely transformative, often unexpected event that despite our attempts to domesticate and subdue it, continues to unfold wildly, unpredictably, improbably, and sometimes, even explosively in our midst.
The question, “What are you looking for?”
comes to us with the same urgency and insistence
that Simon and Andrew experienced.
If we struggle to hear it,
It may be because it’s so tempting to ignore it--
to stick our fingers in our ears,
talk a little louder,
turn the music up higher,
and hope that the sound of our own noise
can fill the void.
If we struggle to respond,
It may be because it’s so tempting to turn that question
into a litany of wants, and needs, and critical issues
that God should really address for us.
What are we looking for? Well…. a lot of things!
Let me grab my list.
What are you looking for?
We fill our prayers with so many words,
our lives with so much noise,
our calendars with so much busy-ness
that we sometimes forget to leave some fallow space.
Space for silence.
Space for reflection.
Space to hear the invitation.
“Sometimes I think we do all the talking
because we are afraid God won’t.
Or conversely,
that God will.
Either way,
staying preoccupied with our own words
seems a safer bet
than opening ourselves up
either to God’s silence
or God’s speech,
both of which have the power to undo us.” *
What are you looking for?
Come and see.
Simon and Andrew listened intently to that question.
They opened themselves to God's speech
and encountered the Living God.
In that encounter, their lives became undone.
The carefully woven threads of two ordinary lives
became unraveled,
messy, unanchored--
the raw material necessary to create something new.
.
In that undoing,
they found new purpose and mission.
In that undoing,
they came to see
that the journey toward hope and salvation
was also a journey through the cross.
What are you looking for?
Come and see.
That invitation echoes in our lives today--
In every experience, in every moment, in every season.
We are invited into God’s silence;
into God’s speech;
into God’s work;
into the world's suffering and challenge and hope and triumph.
We are invited on a journey
to Come and See what God has in store for us.
It’s alright to admit that it’s scary.
It’s alright to admit that we don’t have the answers,
or even most of the questions.
Hearing and responding to our invitation means that we, too,
will begin to live as one undone--
and that changes everything.
Barbara Brown Taylor, When God is Silent, p.51. Cowley Publications, Cambridge, MA, 1998.
© Susan Fleming McGurgan
Comments