Epiphany 2 B + Do you see what I see? + 1.14.24
M. Campbell-Langdell
All Santos, Oxnard
(1 Samuel 3:1–10,
(11–20); Ps. 139:1–5, 12–17; 1 Cor. 6:12–20; John 1:43–51)
Do you hear what I hear? Do you see what I see?
We heard our youth reflecting on “do you see what I see” during
the pageant this year just a few weeks ago. And today we have Nathaniel
“seeing” Jesus in his call. Several times in this passage, Jesus and Nathaniel
speak about seeing. “Come and See”, says Phillip. And Jesus says to Nathaniel
“I saw you under the fig tree.” Similarly, rather than seeing, we read about
Samuel hearing God’s call to him. “Samuel! Samuel!” First, he says “Here I am!”
thinking it is Eli summoning him. Then Eli directs him to say: “Speak Lord for
your servant is listening.”
Do you see what I see? Do you hear what I hear? Seeing and hearing are
important aspects of today’s texts, but they also form part of the theme for
this Epiphany season. It is a season that began last week with the revelation
of Jesus to the whole world as the wise men from across the known orient
greeted him, and with Jesus’ baptism in the river Jordan and the revelation
that he is the Son of God (this text was not shared on Sunday due to the
Epiphany celebration.) This week we have the call of the disciples and the revelations
go on. We see and hear in many ways that Jesus is the fulfillment of the
promises of the scriptures, and that he is sent here not just to save a few but
to save all who would believe in him.
Over the past couple of Sundays, I had the blessing of being
on Maui. I worshipped with a church I always used to worship with on Christmas
every year until I was ordained due to having family members with a house on
Maui. Until 15 years ago when I became a deacon (thanks be to God I celebrated
14 years as a priest this past week), I would go every Christmas to worship
with my family. That church was
wonderful- a hand painted altar with native wood and open sides so the birds
could fly in and out during worship. Only we didn’t worship in the church this
year. Because it burned down. As many of you will recall, a fire tore through
downtown Lahaina in August, destroying most of the town including that historic
church. It also killed many people, including a beloved family member of a
member of our church. There was so much destruction. And yet-
Do you see what I see?
I saw a church gathered, a faithful remnant of the full pews I usually saw when
visiting, worshipping now at the Methodist church just up the street from my
family’s house. It was bare bones. There were prayer books and Morning Prayer
on the first Sunday of our vacation, and on the second Sunday we even had
eucharist and a cappella music! Do you hear what I hear? We heard a joyful
noise and saw and heard how we could include this church in not only in our
prayers but in our Zoom evening prayer mid-week.
Then we came home and I went to work on my intensive class
this week for my doctorate- I wasn’t hiding away from you all but instead on
Zoom seven to eight hours and reading and typing for a couple of more hours a
night. It truly was an intense intensive! But then I saw something really cool.
In the small world that is the Episcopal church, someone had
given our friend who is a deacon in Oregon a card. On its front was a picture
of the altar frontal that burned in Lahaina, of a beautiful Hawaiian version of
Mary and baby Jesus surrounded by flowers, and on the back and striking image
that showed that the cross remained when all else burned.
On it, it says “The winds picked up. The embers sparked. The
people tried to flee. The houses burned. The roads were blocked. The tree burst
into flames. The church was razed, fell to the ground. And yet they found the
cross. The cross endured the flames. The cross rose from the ashes. The cross
of Christ prevailed.” And below it, a quote from the Lord of the Rings by JRR
Tolkien, “’I wish it need not have happened in my time,’ said Frodo. ‘So do I,’
said Gandalf, ‘and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for
them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given
us.’” (Cross photo by Leanna Roberts; author of card unknown.)
Do you see what I see? A cross in the ashes. A people
striving to move forward in the midst of difficult times.
When we were there in that church, worshipping, afterwards a
parishioner came up to the Bishop’s Warden and said “Will the church be
rebuilt?” and she said she hoped so. If there were enough people to support its
ministry. She hoped so.
Jesus said to Nathaniel, “You will see greater things than
these.”
Samuel said to God, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is
listening.”
This weekend we celebrate Martin Luther King, Jr’s legacy.
Although we revere him greatly, many of us focus on his mountaintop moment. His
“I have a Dream” speech at the Washington Mall, speaking to an enthralled
crowd. But he had hard moments, too. He languished in Birmingham jail and felt
that the white faith leaders were not supporting him and his movement near
enough. His legacy reminds me that our call is not a call to nostalgia, to
seeking the past. If Eli had been trapped in nostalgia, he would not have
supported Samuel when God called him. If Nathaniel had remained stuck in his preconceptions
about backwards Nazareth, he never would have come and seen. He never would
have followed Jesus and found the hope that was in living his way.
And even as we mourn the death of Martin Luther King Jr, gone
too soon now almost fifty-five years ago, we remain hopeful. Because he
followed Jesus. He followed that canny savior who inspired Phillip to simply
walk up to Nathaniel and say “Come and see.”
We did not choose the times in which we live, but we must
decide what to do with the time that is given us. Eco-Justice theologian
Cynthia Moe-Lobeda, reflects upon what white folks can do in the light of the
Black Lives Matter movement. I want to acknowledge that not everyone here is
white but I read it as a reminder to myself. She encouraged those of us who are
Euro-American to take off our blinders. To remember we see with white eyes due
the privilege we experience, but that other folks are suffering every day. Then
she reminded us that we are totally beloved of God and should not dwell in
guilt, but instead get serious about repentance and reparations so we fully
reflect the love of God to all people.[1]
We do this so we can reflect the image of the Jesus who came to bring salvation
to all people. So we can follow in the footsteps of Dr King who showed us how
to walk that path with humility and strength.
Do you hear what I hear?
In the ashes of a church, I see a community reforming. In darkness of continued
racism in our country, I see a new light dawning, one of hope.
As we start a new year, let us trust that God is guiding our community. No
matter what comes this year, let us not focus on what lies behind but on that
which lies ahead. Let us hope. Let us decide what to do with the time that is
given us. Let us be ready to hear our brother Phillip’s call to Nathaniel and
perhaps to us to “Come and See.” When we hear the still, small voice of God, let
us respond, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening!” Amen.
[1]
Cynthia Moe-Lobeda, (12/15/21) Faith and
#BlackLivesMatter | Currents in Theology and Mission (currentsjournal.org)
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